


Dating the Cleverest Boy in the World

by elisi



Series: Not the Last [6]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-19
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-09 15:51:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 156,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisi/pseuds/elisi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <br/><img/></p>
</div>Allison had always thought that university would be an adventure. But she'd not imagined that she'd end up dating Harold Saxon's son.
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am (now) aware that Cambridge students do not have room mates. An updated, and more accurate version, might be forthcoming when I have the time. For now, please forgive me, it's only a very minor part.

_Mid-September 2025._

“You know, every time I look at that tree there are more plums on it. I don’t understand how that’s _possible._ ”

Allison sighed and glanced up from the toast she was buttering to see her mother looking out the kitchen window and into the garden.

“It’s a plum tree, Mum. Growing plums is what it _does._ ”

“But Allie, I’ve been plucking it every few days for _weeks_! I have no idea what to do with more. Auntie Emily has already taken three crates and so has Nana, and the neighbours are actively trying to avoid me now. Amanda has her own tree and Ella and Toby don’t like plums. I suppose I could make more jam - I’d have to buy more jars though...”

Tuning out her mother’s musings Allison opened the fridge, only to discover that there was no more marmalade.

“Now would you look at that!” her father exclaimed, as usual feeling a need to share every thing he read in the paper, but Allison ignored him through long practice.

“Mum- why is there no marmalade?”

Turning away from the window and beginning to sort through the ever-present clutter her mother shook her head. “Well, what with all the plum jam I’ve been making I didn’t think we’d need anything else.”

Knowing a lost cause when she saw it Allison sighed deeply and pulled out a jam jar. Retirement suited her mother entirely too well - she finally had time to indulge in her million and one hobbies, the main one being gardening...

“Harold Saxon’s boy is going to be on your course, Allie!” her father continued, blithely ignoring the jam-discussion as he pushed his glasses back up his nose.

“Who?” she asked, pouring a cup of tea and making her way to the table where her mother had cleared a corner.

“Harold Saxon! The prime minister! You know the one who-”

“Oh _him_. He has a son?”

“Good grief Allison, you could at least _try_ to be a little more informed about the world we live in. Anyway, the boy is in the paper today as one of their ‘Young people to watch out for’, and it says he’s going to Cambridge this autumn too, doing your course. Why you might be in the same class!”

“Fascinating,” she said drolly, just as her younger brother came barging in.

“Good morning! Anything happened in your dull lives?”

“Allison is going to be on the same course as Saxon’s son,” her mother said, then frowned.

“What’s the boy’s name again?”

“Alexander,” was the reply, and Jimmy grinned.

“The psychotic prime minister’s kid? Cool. Seriously, can you imagine how brilliant it must have been for him in the playground? ‘My dad can beat up your dad!’ ‘Well my dad can _kill_ your dad!’”

“Jimmy! That’s _not_ funny!” Allison protested around a mouthful of toast, and Jimmy snorted.

“Geez Al, could you _be_ any more uptight?”

She scowled. “Don’t call me Al!”

“Jimmy, _really_ ,” her mother weighed in. “It must have been awfully hard on the poor boy growing up. You ought to try to look after him a little Allie, if he seems a bit lost.”

Allison lowered her teacup, shaking her head. “Mum! I’m going to Cambridge to study Astrophysics, not to become a social worker. And I’m sure he’ll be able to look after himself.”

It was just like being back in primary school... Next her mum would start lecturing her about not showing off, but thankfully her father cut in.

“Ah now, Dearest, don’t start re-enforcing stereotypes. How are women going to compete on a level playing field if they simultaneously have to cater for fragile male egos? Allie, your grandmothers didn’t burn their bras for nothing - you go to Cambridge and outdo all the boys, you hear me?”

“Nana and grandma never burnt their bras, Dad, please stop saying that!”

Having a father whose special interest was women’s liberation never stopped being wearying. Looking up she saw that Jimmy had walked around the table, reading over their father’s shoulder.

“Hey, Al! You’re going to have a job outdoing this guy. He makes your grades look kinda lame.”

“Excuse me?” she asked frostily, having earned every one of her A stars, and still getting a happy fuzzy feeling in her stomach every time she thought about them.

“No seriously, he’s got like... a thousand A-levels. Have a look!”

Tearing the paper out of his father’s hands - ignoring the protests - he handed it over, and Allison frowned as she tried to locate the relevant part of the article - and then blinked.

“OK, that’s just ridiculous! It must be like... a misprint or something.”

She handed the paper back and Jimmy snickered.

“See? He’s a _total_ nerd. Bet you anything he brings the professor an apple on the first day, and that he’s all pale and weedy ‘cause he lives in his computer! To be honest you better not try to talk to him, he’ll be all ‘Oh no, not girls, they give you the lurgi!’”

Allison shot her brother a withering glance as he smirked down at her from his six feet, puffing out his rugby-shirt clad chest like some sports-obsessed pigeon.

“Well _some_ people prefer brains to brawn, moron.”

He sneered back. “Yeah, they’re called-”

“Enough!” their mother cut in, impatient. “Can you children never get along? I swear you’ve not changed at all since you were toddlers. And to think I thought it would be quiet once the other three had left...”

She sighed dramatically and changed the subject. “Allison, did you want to go into town today and do some shopping? I could come with you and get some more jam jars at the same time.”

“Sounds great Mum!” she answered, draining her cup, and smacked Jimmy as he said something stupid about women and shopping.

She couldn’t wait to leave.

***

_Start of October._

Having waved goodbye to her parents Allison slowly made her way back to her room. There was a big talk in a while for all the new students, but she wanted a few moments peace and quiet first, just to process everything. It still felt unreal, despite the drive down with all her stuff boxed up, and hauling everything up to the 2nd floor, with the help of cheerful second year students, friendly and welcoming to a fault. Her gown was hanging in her wardrobe, and how could any of this be real? Somehow all the nerves that had not been present before had suddenly shown up now she was alone. 

What if she couldn’t do the course? What if she couldn’t make any friends? What if her roommate turned out to be horrible? She’d seemed nice enough in their chats, but living with someone was different...

Walking through the door, she realised that the last question was about to be answered immediately, since there was a girl sitting on the other bed, looking about as lost as she felt herself, and the number of boxes had doubled. The room looked almost small, despite its generous size.

“Hi!” she said, smiling nervously. “Allison. Nice meeting you finally.”

“Muniba,” the girl answered. “And likewise. You... managing to find your way around? I keep getting lost.”

Allison shrugged and sat down on her bed.

“I stapled a map to my hand.” She held the map up with a faint smile. “You’re doing music, right?”

Muniba nodded. “Yeah. Both my parents are doctors and they keep trying to change my mind and get me to do something more ‘stable’, but it’s always been music for me.”

“My mum’s a musician,” Allison said. “Well she’s retired now, but she used to teach. Never made much money but she says that’s not what mattered.”

Some of the butterflies calmed as they talked, until Allison realised that she’d not had anything to eat since a chicken wrap at a service station on the way.

Asking Muniba if she’d like to head out to look for dinner, her roommate curbed a smile.

“Do you like curry?”

“Sure,” Allison replied, puzzled, and Muniba walked over to the little fridge in the corner, opening the door and showing off the shelves inside which were now crammed to overflowing with curry-filled tubs.

“My mother doesn’t think that they’ll feed me properly here, so...”

Muniba made a vaguely apologetic gesture, and Allison laughed, before bending down and pulling out the crate she’d hidden under her bed.

“Do you like plum jam?”

Her new roommate stared at the rows of shiny jars, then started laughing too.

Allison had a feeling that university might turn out OK after all.

***

_Late October._

The first few weeks had been ridiculously busy, but Allison was beginning to feel like she had things under control. She was getting the hang of lectures and _studying_ (on her own, in the library) and proper note taking and could just about find her way around. Was also getting used to feeling like she lived in a goldfish bowl, endless hordes of tourists constantly outside the gates, and cluttering up the streets when she was simply trying to get to a meeting with her tutor or getting a few things from the supermarket. She’d also grappled with a lot of new terminology, such as ‘hall’, which meant dinner, and the fact that the cleaners were known as ‘bedders’. (Wrong on _infinite_ levels.)

Her professor was an intimidatingly intelligent, but friendly, middle-aged woman, and the other students a pleasantly mixed bunch - including a gorgeous Chinese student who was forever asking insightful questions, making lessons even more interesting. Allison tried her best not to admire him too openly, and to match him question for question.

She also - with great glee - reported back to Jimmy that Alexander Saxon was as far from an awkward nerd as was possible.

He’d actually fit in quite nicely with her brother’s mates, she thought, watching his lanky form slumped on the topmost bench, as he was lazily note-taking, his blond head resting heavily on his hand. He appeared to live in jeans and T-shirts, and if it wasn’t for the physical similarity she’d never have known that he was a famous politician's son, or that he was supposed to be especially smart. He turned up to every lecture on time, but always left as soon as possible, never appearing interested in asking questions, nor eager to engage in discussions - clearly more concerned with having fun than studying.

His loss, she shrugged at the end of the day’s lecture, as she saw him greet some friends and walk off laughing. _‘Young people to watch out for’_ indeed.

The next day, however, gave her a new perspective.

She’d woken up late, her alarm not going off and Muniba no help since her lesson wasn’t until the afternoon and she loved sleeping in.

Slinking in ten minutes late, Allison tried her best to mime an apology and tiptoed to the back of the class, sliding in on the bench next to Alexander, sending him a nervous smile.

He nodded back politely and scooted over so she had some room, and she brought out her books, trying her best to work out how much she’d missed.

Pencil poised, she glanced across at his pad, meaning to ask him if maybe she could have a look at his notes, and then completely forgot what she had been thinking about.

As she watched, he with utmost care drew a perfect circle, adding to the half dozen circles already filling the page, some of them intercut with lines or smaller circles, others with chunks cut out - all of them as precise as if on a computer screen. Hand-drawing like that was just _impossible_ , she knew that much.

Her staring obviously caught his attention, and he looked up.

“What is that?” she asked, stupidly, and he smiled.

“I was wondering if Santa Claus was feasible. Logically I mean.”

“...what?”

Mischief in his eyes, he turned the page so he had a blank sheet of paper.

“Well, if we accept that he can somehow stretch time and space so he can travel around the world in one night with all those presents in his sleigh, the problem mostly becomes one of manufacture. Now with the increase in population, if the delivery - in relative time - started to take longer than manufacture, the whole venture would become untenable, so I was trying to knock up some calculations...”

And before her disbelieving eyes he began to jot down numbers, with different projections for mechanical and handmade production, and she was utterly lost in bizarreness when the professor’s voice suddenly cut through.

“Alexander. Allison. Am I boring you?”

Her voice was reproaching, but not unkind, and Allison jolted back into awareness of where she was with painful embarrassment.

Alexander on the other hand sighed deeply.

“Exceedingly,” he said, and Allison’s apology died half-formed as she turned and stared at him.

“I’m sorry?” the professor asked, incredulous, and Alexander briefly buried his head in his hands before looking up.

“I’ve _tried_ to be interested. I really have, honestly, but I could do this in my sleep when I was five and I am so bored I could scream.”

“I... see,” the professor replied, eyes narrowing, and Alexander tilted his head.

“You not going to ask me if I think I could do a better job teaching than yourself?”

A ghost of a smile was the only admittance of humour.

“No, we’d better leave that cliché alone. I would, however, like for you to come and see me as soon as class is finished.”

“Sure,” he said, as unconcerned as could be.

“Also, I would appreciate it if you would not distract the other students.”

Glancing at Allison he suddenly looked apologetic.

“Oh. Sorry about that.”

Not knowing what to say Allison tried to apologise to the professor at the same time as trying to tell Alexander that she wasn’t blaming him - she had asked after all - but he just shook his head, and then retreated to his odd circles once more.

But at the end of the lecture, as they were gathering their books, he stopped her.

“Allison? Would you like to maybe... I don’t know... Go grab a cup of coffee or something?”

“Um,” she said, feeling out-of-sorts and wishing she’d put on some nicer clothes instead of the first thing that had come to hand.

“OK, sure. When?” she finally answered, curiosity winning out.

He glanced at his watch. “Ten minutes?”

“But - you’re seeing...” she gestured towards their professor, and he smiled somewhat smugly.

“Won’t take long, trust me.”

“OK then, it’s a date,” she said, belatedly realising that maybe this had not been the best choice of words. But he grinned back, clearly pleased, and asked where she’d like to meet, before running off.

Slowly putting her notes into her bag, she recalled her mother mentioning the way Harold Saxon had mesmerised the whole country, and vaguely wondered if charisma was hereditary.

But surely having a cup of coffee was innocent enough?


	2. Chapter 2

There was always _one_ , Professor Suzanne Trinder thought to herself. She’d hoped that maybe this year was the exception, but no. At least the lad seemed well-mannered.

Opening the door to her office she held it open and motioned for him to walk through, but he shook his head.

“Ladies first.”

Very well, she knew how to deal with kids like him. And it was preferable to those with crippled self-esteem who came and cried on her shoulder...

“Now, Alexander,” she started, once they were both sitting down facing each other across her large desk.

“Despite what you might think, I’ve dealt with young people like yourself before. You feel that you are wasting your time on my course, is that correct? And you think that I can teach you nothing, and that no one understands your specific talent. How am I doing?”

He grinned, too charming by half and entirely too aware of it.

“You have a sharp tongue, Professor. But yes, you are entirely correct.”

“H’m,” she said. “I would say that this is obviously coupled with a hint of notoriety from your father, something I should imagine you generally use to your advantage.”

To her surprise his entire demeanour changed, the amusement vanishing in an instant.

“If you’re suggesting that having a mass-murderer for a father is something that in any way improves my life, then I’m afraid you’re very much mistaken.”

Taken aback, she apologised. Clearly this was a much sorer spot than she had anticipated - she should have remembered how incredibly sensitive young people could be...

Alexander sighed as he noticed her subsequent hesitation, then leaned forward.

“OK, here’s the thing. My uncle made me come here, because he thought that I ought to get the university ‘experience’, even though I’ll be treading water academically for three years. Now it’s entirely possible that he’s onto something, he usually is, but I don’t see why I should re-do something that’s utterly elementary to me. So if you’ll just leave me alone, I can probably get a fair amount of work done during your classes - my own work, I mean, of which I have plenty - and when exam time comes I promise to make it worth your while.”

The boy was deadly earnest, and Suzanne began to realise that maybe she _hadn’t_ come across anyone like him before. Well, variety was the spice of life and all that.

“Make it worth my while?” she asked carefully, and he suddenly laughed.

“Not the best choice of words, sorry. What I mean is, I’ll take the Natural Sciences and turn them inside out and upside down and make them dance a little jig. And since _you’re_ my teacher... well people will draw their own conclusions.”

Studying him for a long moment, she slowly shook her head.

“Are you trying to bribe me with plaudits?”

He smiled, that perfectly self-assured Saxon smile that she could still vividly remember, even though it had been eighteen years since _that_ election. 

“Absolutely. Is it working?”

Clearly you could put the crooked politician in prison, but not stop the instincts from rearing their head in the next generation...

“I think you’re walking on very thin ice young man.”

He seemed to mull this over, then glanced at his watch, biting his lip.

“Oh I shouldn’t do this, but what the hell. Anything for a peaceful life.”

Pulling a pad and pen out of his bag he swiftly filled a page with calculations, then tore it off and handed it over.

“I’ve been looking into your research - good stuff, by the way, I was quite impressed. Anyway, I believe this might be helpful to your current project? As I said, all I want is to be left alone. I won’t be any trouble and I’ll even do all my homework, promise. Well most of it.”

Frowning Suzanne began reading, eyebrows sailing to the top of her head by the time she reached the end. It was a completely new angle from which to tackle the problem - one that might not work, but that was certainly worth exploring. And it was far, far beyond any first year student - beyond most graduates, probably. She looked up, flummoxed.

“This is extraordinary.”

“I know,” he answered matter-of-factly.

“How did you...”

Standing up he swung the bag over his shoulder, shrugging.

“I’m the cleverest boy in the world, didn’t you know? But I have a date with a lovely brunette in a couple of minutes’ time, so please excuse me?”

Looking from him to the paper and back up she slowly nodded.

“Very well. Let’s try until Christmas?”

“Brilliant!” he grinned, and vanished out the door. 

Suzanne was left wondering what on earth had just happened. Her project wasn’t exactly secret, but how had he... 

Cleverest boy in the world indeed; she was _definitely_ keeping an eye on him. If this was all some kind of ploy she’d catch him sooner or later. But she had a feeling that he was perfectly genuine, and somehow that was far more worrying.

***

The bookshop café was half full of students, but even so Allison immediately noticed Alexander when he came through the door, hovering for a moment trying to seek her out, before walking over to the tiny table she’d secured. Having missed breakfast thanks to her lateness she’d got herself a cup of tea and a bun, and she just about felt ready to engage in a conversation.

“I’m late, I know. Sorry.”

Allison glanced at her watch. “Only by... uh... a minute?”

“I take timekeeping very seriously,” Alexander replied earnestly as he sat down and dumped his bag on the floor. “But the talk was a little trickier than I had anticipated.”

“So... what happened?” she asked, then swiftly backtracked. “If you don’t mind telling me. I’m sorry I got you in trouble...”

“Oh no, don’t be. It would have come sooner or later, and this way I got a date out of it.” He smiled happily. “Anyway, I think it went rather well. By which I mean that our dear Professor has agreed to leave me alone to do my own thing.”

Well he was certainly not boring... She tilted her head, curious. 

“Which might be what? Apart from trying to figure out Santa Claus I mean.”

He hesitated for a moment, absentmindedly tapping the table.

“I have a lot of... projects. And I often lend a hand to others who need it. Like... this summer I spent a lot of time with Luke Smith, working with him on his latest invention. Although right at the moment I’m busy upgrading all our household appliances.”

Her jaw dropped, and she didn’t hear a single word after ‘Luke Smith’.

“Luke Smith? _The_ Luke Smith?”

“The one and only,” he smiled, but she just stared. Luke Smith was... Well he was Luke Smith. Boy genius and famous scientist, and he had been something of a hero to her ever since he’d first popped up on the science scene some 10 years earlier, effortlessly scooping up awards and famously refusing to work with UNIT to create anti-alien weaponry. And Alex _knew_ him? _Worked_ with him? She’d give her right arm to do that.

“You’re kidding!”

Looking somewhat abashed he shook his head. “No I’m not. He’s a family friend, and he likes having people around who understand what he’s doing.”

“Wow. That’s... wow. What’s he like?”

Alexander looked puzzled. “He’s just... Luke. I mean, I’ve always known him, so... Um, he’s... very nice. And exceptionally clever, of course. I... I didn’t mean to be name dropping. Really. I tend to think that I’m perfectly interesting in and of myself.” 

He followed this statement with a cheeky grin, and she raised an eyebrow.

“Not hiding your light under a bushel, obviously.”

He shrugged. “I see no point in false modesty. And I don’t think you do either.”

His brown eyes were shrewd and she took a sip of her tea to avoid answering, since the words at the tip of her tongue were not exactly very polite. There was a difference between standing up for yourself, and jumping up and down going _‘I’m amazing!’_.

“But,” he continued, “tell me about yourself. Maybe I’ve got you figured out all wrong.”

“You think you’ve got me figured out?” she asked, skeptical, and he chuckled.

“A good bit, yes.”

She sat back, studying him in earnest. As much as she’d tried to tune out her dad’s Girl-Power speeches when growing up, they had left her with a complete inability to take any kind of superior bullshit from men. And he was beginning to grate an awful lot.

“Go on then. Tell me about myself.”

He grinned, leaning forward and resting his hands in his folded hands.

“OK then. You’re very smart, and you don’t mind people knowing. And you speak your mind. Seriously, watching yours and Chen’s discussions has been the highlight of lessons so far.”

Allison tried her best not to show her surprise. He’d never even so much as looked at her as far as she knew. She wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or freaked out at his words.

“You’re very organised and practical. You appreciate good design, but not at the expense of comfort, and you’re not particularly vain. I’d say a Times reader rather than the Guardian, but definitely left-leaning middle class. And I think you’re in halls. If not, then you live very, very close to the college. How am I doing?”

He beamed, like he expected a cookie, and she found herself nearly speechless.

“Um... that’s pretty accurate. How...”

He shrugged. “Elementary my dear Watson. I just notice stuff - can’t help it really. And I’ve been noticing your tea for a while now and am getting thirsty. Can I get you anything?”

She shook her head, and as he wandered off to get a drink she found her eyes following him without meaning to. It had recently gotten colder and he had added a denim jacket to his jeans-and-T-shirt combo, which made him look a bit like he’d escaped from an ‘80s movie. It was a look, she supposed, although not one she’d ever categorise as particularly fetching.

When he returned with a big coffee mug she decided to turn the tables and find out something about him - her powers of observation were clearly not as well developed as his... or he was just being odd on purpose. And saying _‘I think you’re deliberately wearing clothes as different from your father’s as possible’_ \- well, that’s where things got awkward. 

“Um, Alexander-”

“Please, call me Alex!” he cut in. “Everyone does.” 

“OK. Alex... I read this article-”

He pulled a face. “Oh, the _‘Young people to watch out for’_? Meh. It was all we could do to keep my photo out of it. Horrible thing.”

“Actually I was wondering... did you do as many A levels as it said?”

He nodded. “Oh yes. I wanted to do more, but they wouldn’t let me.”

 _“More?”_ He couldn’t be serious. Next he’d shout _‘I’m the king of the world!’_

“Absolutely. But there’s some rule about having to have done the course if you want to take the exam.” He sighed. “I could easily have added half a dozen languages for example...”

He seemed to be totally in earnest, and she shook her head, incredulous. 

“Huh. Well I suck at languages. I did OK I suppose, but it’s always been numbers for me. There’s something soothing about them, you know? The way they always do what they should. Something’s either right or wrong, there’s no middle way. I love that.”

As she spoke a smile broke out on his face.

“Oh I’m just the same!”

“But... you just said...”

“Well...” he took a thoughtful sip of his coffee. “I’m good at _everything_ , basically, but I still have... what’s the best word? Limitations? Like - I pick up languages like _that_ , but I’m not a writer or a poet. I can draw with perfect precision, but I’m not an artist. I can play any instrument you give me, but I’m not a musician. Does that make sense?”

She nodded, wondering if maybe the showing off was some sort of over-compensation... 

“I think so. What would you call yourself then?”

For a long moment he sat still, eyes far away and clearly taking great pains to find the correct answer.

“I... I guess the best word might be scientist. Or maybe more of a Renaissance man? I’m basically interested in everything. And I mean that quite literally. So being here, being told to study _one_ thing for three years, is not exactly a dream come true. If I’d had my way I’d have done a Grand Tour instead of all this sitting around in the same place. Just imagine - every day new places, new people, new things to learn...”

Then a sudden grin flashed across his face.

“And now you’ve got that look in your eyes.”

“What look?” she asked unsure, and he shook his head.

“That look that says that I’m a spoiled brat and that lots of people more deserving than me would kill to be here. I see it all the time. And you’re absolutely right - I actually used that argument quite a lot when my uncle told me I had to go to Cambridge... Didn’t work. And I guess it isn’t so bad here - I’m sharing a flat with my two best friends, which is fun - so far at least.”

“Sounds great,” she said, trying not to imagine what state a flat inhabited by three boys might be in, and he smiled. “It is. Although I wanted to be in halls, but my mum wouldn’t let me.”

“Why not?” she asked, and he sighed. 

“Because she’s a total snob. Guess she was worried that some of these horrible plebian students would corrupt her sweet little golden-haired boy, which is pretty funny, considering- well, everything.” 

She wondered what he’d been meaning to say, but he swiftly continued before she could attempt to broach the subject.

“But I’ve been friends with Matt and Josh since we were all just four years old, so they just about pass the test. Are halls as much fun as I think?”

“It’s OK,” she replied, then remembered his earlier statement. “And... how did you know that I was in halls?”

There was a definite twinkle in his eyes as he answered. “Well this morning you looked like you’d fallen out of bed five minutes before arriving. No one who’s spent time on a bike or bus can look that sleepy.”

“Oh,” she replied, trying not to blush and silently cursing her alarm, but his smile just widened. 

“I think it’s a good look. Much preferable to those who can’t leave the house without an hour-long session in front of the mirror!”

Despite being a compliment of sorts, she still felt like a fool, and - short of a real excuse - checked her watch.

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to run-”

“Of course,” he replied. “You probably had plans before I came and interrupted everything. But thank you for your time - it’s very much appreciated.”

And there was that seriousness again. She really couldn’t make heads or tails of him.

“See you tomorrow?” she said, pulling on her black woollen trench coat, and he smiled.

“Absolutely.”

She smiled back, thinking to herself that this had definitely been the weirdest date _ever_. People had told her that she’d meet lots of interesting people at university, and she was certainly getting her quota.

***

Muniba had gone off to her lesson when Allison got back to their room, and she relished the peace as she settled down to see what exactly was the matter with her alarm clock.

But by the time Muniba returned the clock was spread over the whole desk, and Allison was looking at it forlornly.

“What happened?” Muniba - as usual effortlessly elegant in a shalwar kameez - asked. _She_ could roll out of bed and look gorgeous without even trying. Life wasn’t fair, Allison decided.

“It didn’t wake me this morning, so I’ve been trying to work out what’s wrong. I think I can probably fix it, except I don’t have any proper tools. You don’t happen to have a soldering iron anywhere?”

Muniba shook her head silently, and Allison sighed.

“I know it’s just an alarm clock, but it was pretty expensive and I hate to throw things away if they’re fixable.”

Making-do had been a way of life for years - her parents had lost most of their savings when she had been a toddler, and making ends meet with five kids had been hard work. The four R’s had been endlessly repeated: Reduce, recycle, re-use, repair...

She bit her lip. “Maybe I could borrow something from the faculty. Or...” Her eyes narrowed. “Alex said something... I wasn’t paying attention, but...”

Muniba looked curious. “Alex who?”

Realising that she’d completely forgotten to tell about her ‘date’, Allison smiled a little nervously.

“Alexander Saxon. He’s in my class and we kinda went on a date today after the lecture.”

Muniba’s interest was definitely piqued. “Really? What’s he like?”

Allison thought for moment. “Ridiculously intelligent, according to himself. To be honest he’s not really my type, but he’s definitely... different. And sorta charming I guess.”

Muniba raised an eyebrow, and Allison couldn’t help grinning. “And he might just have a soldering iron. That’s not taking advantage or... leading him on, is it?”

She didn’t want to ‘send out the wrong signals’, but on the other hand... On the other hand she _did_ want to get to know him better, she realised... and she most definitely wanted her alarm fixed.

Decisions, decisions.


	3. Chapter 3

Throughout the next morning’s lecture Allison found it hard to concentrate. Alex was there, of course, as usual sat at the very back of the class, although she noticed that this time he didn’t even make a pretence at taking notes. As soon as he arrived - shooting her a swift smile as he walked up the steps - he brought out a laptop and never so much as looked up through the lesson, obviously engrossed in whatever he was doing.

She herself had got to the lecture nice and early, bagging a seat next to Chelsea.

Chelsea wore too much makeup, had California style bleached-blonde hair, and her ambition was to become ‘a hot, famous scientist’. She was also fun, forthright and a bit gossipy, and Allison liked her an awful lot - having no doubts that she’d easily fulfil her ambitions and more besides.

Of course Allison then ended up with Mike on the other side, since he was doing his best to pursue Chelsea - in spite of the young lady’s complete lack of interest. Allison didn’t know whether to admire his tenacity, or tell him to get a grip.

As the lecture ended Mike leaned towards Allison, nodding towards the top row, having also clearly noted Alex’s complete and utter non-participation.

“What’s up with that?”

Chelsea shook her head, clueless, and Allison shrugged.

“He said that he’d talked to the Professor and she’s going to ‘let him do his own thing’ - whatever that is.”

Mike frowned, a look that didn’t suit him very well. Allison suspected that he’d be rather rugged in a few years’ time, but right now he had that half-finished look so typical of teenaged boys, all the different parts of his body growing at a different rate. It made him come across as a bit awkward and defensive, even though he was certainly bright - being the recipient of the annual Google scholarship.

“How the hell did he manage that? Seriously - what’s so bloody special about Alexander Saxon?”

“I’m the cleverest boy in the world!” the youth in question cut in, appearing at the end of the long desk and smiling brightly at Allison.

“ _Right..._ ” Mike said, not at all impressed, as Chelsea’s eyes darted from Alex and back to Allison.

“Oh my God, are you two...? I saw you talking yesterday-”

“Well - that’s...” Allison said, feeling painfully awkward, and leaving the sentence hanging, because there was no proper answer. Alex, to her immense relief, stayed silent.

But as she shoved the last of her things into her bag, she pulled herself together.

“Um, Alex? Can I talk to you?”

“I am entirely at your disposal,” he said, inclining his head, and Allison tried - not very successfully - to ignore Chelsea’s intensely curious eyes that she could feel following them as they left the room.

“So?” he asked, once they were halfway down the corridor, and she stopped, trying to remember the lines she’d practised.

“It’s... I mean- I _like_ you, it’s just... you’re not really my type, you know? So...”

Fantastic - now she couldn’t even speak in complete sentences. Alex however was apparently able to interpret her incoherent ramblings.

“You saying you just want to be friends?”

She nodded - feeling horribly self-conscious - but Alex just shrugged, apparently not at all bothered.

“Well... Friendships tend to last longer - and involve less heartbreak - than romances, so... count me in.”

“OK,” she replied, a little put-out, and he chuckled.

“I just want to get to know you better. Yesterday you managed to tell me hardly anything at all about yourself, which was rather clever. And I like clever people.”

“Oh,” she said, thinking that really it hadn’t been hard to be secretive since he could probably talk the legs off an elephant. But - if the not-dating was sorted she could maybe get to the other part of her plan.

“Actually, I was wondering... my alarm clock broke and I need a soldering iron to fix it-”

“Oh, that would be no problem at all!” he responded happily. “I’ve got a toolbox as big as... a big thing. You wanna come round now and pick it up? My flat’s only 5 minutes’ walk away...”

“Sure,” she said, smiling cautiously. This had all gone so much easier than anticipated...

As they walked out of the college a little later, he turned to her.

“Can I just ask - why do you have an alarm clock? Most people just use their mobiles.”

“Um... I’m afraid my phone needs to live in my bag, or I’ll lose it. Also my alarm is quite old and pretty and I like it.”

He smiled, something playing in his eyes that she couldn’t put her finger on. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

During the walk to his flat he managed to extract various other pieces of information, such as the fact that she was the second-youngest of five, that both her parents were teachers (although her mum was now retired), and listened with genuine attentiveness as she expanded on the quirks of her siblings.

The flat was located on the second floor of a nice, newly renovated building, and as they entered - Alex throwing his denim jacket and bag over a peg before gentlemanly offering to take hers - there was a “Welcome home brain box!” from somewhere inside.

Alex grinned, and walked through into the large, open plan living area. Unlike what Allison had been imagining, the place was almost spotless, the only signs of occupation being a few scattered books and letters on the dining table.

“I see you finally managed to get out of bed,” Alex said drolly to the boy who was lounging on the sofa, finishing off a piece of toast.

Allison found herself just staring. Alex’s flatmate was without a doubt the single most beautiful person she’d ever seen. Flawless tanned skin, large, dark brown eyes and cheekbones to die for, combined with perfectly formed lips, gave the impression of an angel who’d accidentally fallen out of the sky. A rather fashionable angel, it had to be said... His hair - wavy brown and touching his shoulders - looked like he’d spent at least an hour styling it, and he had clearly put a lot of thought and effort into his outfit, which was so casually hip that she wondered if maybe he was a model.

“Oh Allison, this is my peacock - also known as Josh. Josh, this is Allison.”

Josh jumped up, and Allison tried her best to return her face to normal.

“Hello Allison, nice to meet you. Architecture.”

She smiled, telling herself that she really ought to stop judging people on their appearance.

“You too. And I’m NatSci.”

Josh’s eyes were entirely too keen, and he smiled teasingly as he shot Alex a loaded look. “So... is romance blossoming amongst the bunsen burners and the petri dishes?”

“No, we’re just friends,” Alex said, in a tone of voice that Allison knew entirely too well, as she used it all the time on her siblings. It said ‘Back off or you’re going to get hurt!’

“Allison has just come to borrow something.” He frowned as his eyes darted behind Josh and took in the sofa with a disapproving glare.

“Did you _deliberately_ throw crumbs everywhere?”

“Maybe I did,” Josh replied, lifting an eyebrow and turning round to swipe a host of bread crumbs on the floor, before yelling “Bob!” at the top of his voice.

Allison followed this exchange with great puzzlement (Alex was _house proud?_ And who was ‘Bob’?), but then she heard a dim buzzing noise and a dark blue, faintly sparkly dome scuttled into sight.

She smiled in delight.

“You’ve got a voice-activated roomba? Cool!”

“Around the sofa,” Josh instructed, and the roomba hummed off, zigzagging the floor happily.

Alex smirked. “I figured we needed something to tidy up after Josh and Matt - that’s our other friend - since they’ve not got their mums to look after them anymore. They’re a bit... how shall I put it... spoiled.”

“Says _you_!” Josh countered, and Allison found herself beginning to take to him - here was obviously someone not at all impressed with Alex’s high opinion of himself.

“I’m spoiled, but I was _never_ mollycoddled,” Alex replied, just as ‘Bob’ finished off, and then started speaking, its voice female and very cultured - a bit like an old-fashioned BBC presenter.

“Alexander, you have not introduced me to your friend.”

Allison stared at the blue dome in surprise, and Alex chuckled.

“I’m very sorry. Bob, this is Allison.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Allison.”

“Um... likewise,” she replied, and looked at Alex. “It... _talks_?”

He shrugged. “Just added a smidgen of AI. It’s nothing really, I just thought it’d be nice to have a female voice around. And it tells people off if they don’t tidy up after themselves.”

He grinned, and Josh rolled his eyes.

“As I told you yesterday, I’ve been improving on the white goods.”

She felt like saying that there was a difference between improving performance and adding artificial intelligence - and _damn_ , how did he have access to that kind of technology? Did he get it from Luke Smith? But since saying ‘Actually, can I borrow your roomba too, so I can take it to pieces and discover what you did to it?’ was a bit rude, she searched for something else to say.

“Why ‘Bob’?”

“From Blackadder? The girl who dresses up as a boy?”

“Oh. I see. That... makes sense I guess.”

“Anyway! Soldering iron - please follow me.”

His bedroom was as tidy as everywhere else, and contained a bed, a large, built-in wardrobe, and a desk, with a well stocked bookshelf above. The only thing that hinted at any kind of personal touch was an old cricket bat under the desk, and two large, framed movie posters on the walls - one for ‘Return of the Jedi’ and one for ‘Serenity’. The Serenity one was rather unusual, and not one she’d seen before - all gorgeous blues, and with a determined Mal looking over River’s shoulder.

“You’re a Firefly fan?” she asked, and he turned from the door of the wardrobe, surprised.

“Um... ish? I just like that movie. It’s...”

He stopped, and she waited as he gathered his thoughts, absentmindedly twisting a pendant he wore around his neck.

“Well, I _love_ Star Wars - I mean, who doesn’t - but... Star Wars is a fairy tale. Good and evil is all... simplified. Serenity gets much closer to the truth.”

“The _truth_?” she echoed, surprised. Surely he wasn’t one of those weirdoes who didn’t believe in aliens...

He chuckled, but there was an odd seriousness in his eyes.

“The truth about _people_. All people, anywhere, anywhen.”

She didn’t quite know how to respond to that. Thankfully he didn’t seem inclined to continue down philosophy avenue.

“So - are _you_ a fan then?”

She shrugged. “Sorta. I mentioned that my dad’s a feminist, right? One fall out from that is that I’ve had Joss Whedon’s work crammed down my throat my whole life. Seriously, I can remember watching TV with him when I was little and getting a sweetie every time I correctly identified a ‘strong female character’.”

Alex laughed. “I like him already! You’ll have to introduce me sometime.”

As he turned back to the wardrobe, bringing out an enormous toolbox, Allison’s attention was caught by something on the Star Wars poster.

Taking a closer look, she saw that someone had written _‘I’m so much prettier’ _across Han Solo in silver pen.

Holding up a soldiering iron, Alex caught her looking.

“Don’t ask. No really, _don’t_ ask. And here’s what you’re wanting!”

She thanked him, and then wondered out loud if there wasn’t anything she could do to for him in return. He shook his head, but then inspiration struck.

“Do you like plum jam?” she asked, and he considered this.

“I think so,” he finally replied. “I like plums, so it ought to follow that I like plum jam. Why?”

“Because I’ve got a large crate of my mum’s home-made plum jam under my bed, and I’m worried that it’ll be mouldy before I’m halfway through eating it.”

“Well if you want rid of it, I’ll happily take a jar,” he said. “And with Matt and Josh around... yeah, it’ll be gone like dew before the sun.”

“Might give you a few jars then - my mum still has _mountains_ at home. We have a plum tree in the garden and it just... _grows_. It’s like it knows that mum retired and devoted herself to gardening, and is trying to make sure she’s got plenty to do.”

Alex tilted his head. “My mum likes gardening too... Well, after a fashion. She’s got a rose garden - like Josephine, you know.”

Allison stared at him blankly. “Sorry, who?”

“Josephine? Empress of France; Napoleon’s wife? She loved roses. Mum thinks her a neat role model, all the infidelities apart of course.”

If there was an appropriate answer to this, Allison didn’t know it. Alex chucked at her confusion.

“Did I not mention that my family is... _wildly_ eccentric?”

As she walked down the road shortly afterwards, soldering iron carefully tucked in her bag, Allison thought to herself that having Alexander Saxon as a friend could prove even more interesting than she had anticipated.


	4. Chapter 4

“Allison – how do you feel about lunch?”

Alex really did have the most alarming tendency to pop up out of nowhere. Since he had been a no-show for the lecture, she'd not expected to see him, and had half planned on just grabbing a wrap of some sort and heading for the library. But...

“Generally I’m in favour of it. Why?”

“I was wondering if you’d like to join myself and Chen? I’m curious to see if you two can get along outside a lecture hall, or if you’ll argue no matter the setting.”

Her eyes widened and she looked across the room to where Chen was standing, looking about as awkward as she felt.

“We don’t argue _that_ much,” she offered - because really it was just that they enjoyed trying to outdo each other in class discussions - and Alex laughed.

“Yes you do! Come on, it’s my treat. And I’ve asked Matt and Josh to come along, so you won’t have to carry the conversation all by yourselves.”

For a moment she studied him, the happy excitement in his eyes pretty irresistible, and wondered how in just a week and a half he’d become such a fixture in her life.

“Sure, why not,” she finally said, and he beamed at her.

“Brilliant! Do you like Greek food? I found this little restaurant the other day that I'd like to check out…”

Following him down the stairs she shot Chen a slightly nervous smile. She hoped this wasn’t some weird matchmaking idea of Alex’s, although anything was possible with him, she’d discovered that much already...

Only last week he’d asked her to come ‘exploring’ with him, and they’d ended up in King’s College chapel. It had been the strangest experience, since he’d done a pretty good impression of her father – a history teacher through and through - running this way and that, pointing out historical oddities and getting very excited.

When she admitted not being terribly fond of history, he’d looked at her as if she was mad, and declared history to be the greatest subject in the world.

“So, why aren’t you studying history?” she’d asked, perfectly logically, and there had been a pause.

"Mostly because the courses are way too restrictive," the reply had finally been, and, before she had been able to explore the subject further, the organ had suddenly started playing, and Alex’s face had lit up, as if illuminated from above by a light bulb.

Then he’d dragged her up to the organ loft and somehow – Allison still wasn’t quite sure – talked the organist into giving him an impromptu lesson.

Any doubts that she might previously have had about his claim to be able to turn his hand to anything had been swiftly blown away, as in less than an hour he mastered the instrument. Having witnessed a seemingly never-ending stream of piano students traipse through the front door during her childhood - and still vividly remembering her own, less than enthusiastic, lessons - his feat impressed her more than she let on.

But most surprising of all had been the fact that once he'd got the hang of it, he thanked the stunned organist profusely, and then got up and left, his interest already elsewhere.

‘Not a musician’ he’d said, and she was beginning to understand what he meant.

Matt was waiting for them at the restaurant – a jolly place, the walls painted to look as if the diners had a view of the Aegean Sea - waving as they entered to catch their attention. Allison had only met him once before and was looking forward to getting to know him better. In looks he was definitely boy-next-door material, neatly cut brown hair and green pullover easily marking him out as someone who had not been blessed with Josh's flair for fashion.

She'd looked him up online of course, and knew that he was a medical student, aiming to join Doctors Without Borders once he'd graduated. He was also already involved with a large number of student groups - everything from Amnesty International to Save the Rainforest - and so much earnestness would have been rather off-putting if it hadn't been for his intriguing tagline: _‘Middle class through and through except for the fact that my dad used to be a clown'_ , which spoke of a certain tongue-in-cheekness that undercut the Guardian-reading crusading spirit very neatly.

“Josh’s not coming,” Matt announced once they were all seated and introductions were out of the way. “He called a few minutes ago – something about a girl and the theatre.”

Alex smiled wryly. “This is how many girls now? Seven? Although he's never going to be Jack Mark II if he doesn't add a few boys.”

Matt grinned. "Oh but there _was_ a boy!"

"Really?" Alex's eyes widened with glee. "How do I not know about this?"

"Well... apparently it's complicated." Matt leaned forward, clearly enjoying his scoop. "Turns out the boy in question had a girlfriend - something he neglected to tell Josh - and she found out, and is pretty pissed off. As is Josh, obviously. Generally he's just trying to keep it quiet. I only managed to get the story out of him this morning - I was wondering why he wasn't answering his messages and forced him to talk."

Alex shook his head. "Oh no, that won't do. The Jack Harkness Code stipulates that he has to solve it by having a threesome."

Looking up he realised that Allison and Chen were both looking at him, somewhat flummoxed.

"Who is Jack?" Allison asked, curious about the whole situation and yet not wanting to come across as a gossip addict.

There was a brief pause, as Alex and Matt exchanged silent looks.

"Jack," Alex began slowly, obviously choosing his words with great care. "Jack... is just Jack. Um... he's like my surrogate older brother I suppose you could say, and he... Well he'll sleep with anything with a post code, pretty much."

Allison frowned at this, but then a waiter turned up and handed out menus, and Alex used the interruption to change the subject.

“So – what would you like? Remember, my treat! Seriously – money’s no object.”  
   
Allison quirked an eyebrow, but Matt shrugged. “Trust me, he’s loaded."

She looked at Chen, who shook his head, a small smile on his face.

“I have no problem with dining out on Evil Western Capitalism” he said with a wink, and Allison chuckled.  
   
Alex looked up from his menu. “I’m not evil – unless playing the stock market is an inherently bad thing…”  
   
Allison blinked.  
   
“You play the stock market?”  
   
“M-hm!”  
   
Seeing that she was still somewhat flabbergasted, he elaborated.  
   
“My Dad wanted to teach me about the value of money, but he dislikes the whole principle of pocket money, so…”  
   
He shrugged and let the sentence hang.

“So… he taught you to play the stock market?”  
   
“Yup. It was the Christmas of... 2015. The year with no snow? I was a bit bored, so he decided it'd make for a day well-spent. Which it did."

"2015?" she asked, incredulous. "You were... _eight_?"

He nodded proudly. "Haven't spent a penny that wasn't my own since."  
   
She wasn't quite sure how to respond to this, and neither was Chen, who frowned.

“It is legal for children to do this in England?”  
   
Alex laughed, brown eyes twinkling mischievously. “Oh no, not at all."

"And yet you admit to fraudulence quite openly? I do not understand."

"Ah now," Alex said, thoughtfully. "See this is one of the peculiarities of Englishness - you can say the most outrageous things and people will just smile and pretend it's nothing out of the ordinary, because anything else would be awkward. Also, I could be lying. British culture is a fascinating thing. You should have a look into it."

Chen slowly shook his head. "I came here to study science, not culture."

"No reason you can't do both! Wheelie bins, that's another peculiarity - trust me, never get between an Englishman and his wheelie bin!"

What Chen's response to this would have been Allison never found out, since at that moment their waiter turned up again, asking if they were ready to order, and Alex began quizzing him on the different dishes - in Greek.

Matt sighed.

"Please ignore him, he just likes to show off. Between trying to keep him out of trouble, and keeping Josh even halfway interested in his studies it's a miracle I ever get anything done myself."

Allison decided that she liked Matt.

Alex broke off his interrogation and shot his friend a sly smile. "Don't worry Matt, you've still got plenty of time to save the world."

Matt sighed again, and shook his head.

"I don't want to save the world, just make a difference. Because I can. If everyone just-"

Alex huffed with great exaggeration. "Not _now_ Matt. Let's just order some food OK?"

He turned back to the waiter - who was wearing a polite 'God-save-me-from-students' look on his face - but Alex said something in Greek that made him chuckle (and made Allison suspect that the kitchen would outdo themselves), and then they got down to the business of ordering. Clearly eating out with Alex had a lot of advantages.

When the starters turned up, Allison brought the conversation back to where Alex had stopped it.

"Matt - what did you mean about making a difference?"

This innocent question swiftly turned into a intense discussion about how best to save the world - Matt was very much a believer in grassroots movements, and of enabling people to help themselves. Chen - the son of a government official - disagreed. In his opinion the most useful way of bringing about change was for a strong government, able to see the big picture, to help people in the way that would benefit the most. Allison, after a while, decided to come from the issue sideways, pointing out that technology was the way forward - just look at the difference mobile phones and the internet had made.

It was all very exciting, and she almost had to pinch herself - she was a proper undergraduate in Cambridge, having a deep discussion about politics and world affairs with fellow students. This was the stuff dreams were made of.

She was so caught up that it took her a long time to notice that Alex wasn't joining in at all. He was quietly eating, observing them with what could best be described as the detached interest of an anthropologist. To be fair, he'd said that he'd got them together to see if they'd still argue, but...

"Alex - what do you think?"

He met her eyes briefly, and then shook his head.

"I don't. Politics isn't my thing."

"Oh come on! You must have some sort of opinion!"

"I really don't. I can see the merit in most systems and I refuse to take sides."

He shrugged, but she wasn't going to let it go this easily, shooting Chen a look.

"Go on - in an ideal world, how would you arrange things?"

He looked from face to face, then sighed in defeat. "Fine. In an ideal world, there'd be one central government that could distribute all the resources fairly and evenly. This, however, would never last because people are stupid and selfish and corruptible."

Matt shook his head. "You've _got_ to stop being so cynical."

"I'm not cynical!" Alex protested. "I'm just a realist. No system can ever be perfect. There will _always_ be an imbalance, there will _always_ be someone at the bottom of society, there will _always_ be people who exploit the system to help themselves. It's human nature. And if you start messing with _that_ you're in 'Brave New World' territory - or ‘Serenity’ - and that's even worse."

"That's... bleak," Allison said after a moment, and he shrugged.

"That's life."

Her eyes narrowed, and he smiled a sudden bright smile.

"And- that's why I never discuss politics."

Chen slowly nodded. "I hope you will not think me impolite, but you seem to be quite a strange person, Alexander."

At which point Matt burst out laughing and the boy in question buried his head in his hands. Still chuckling, Matt patted him on the back, and then checked his watch.

"Forty-five minutes, I think that might be a record. Although you didn't actually speak for most of those."

"Shut up," Alex muttered, then looked up through his fingers, caught between amusement and weariness.

"Can I just point out that I'm _not_ a cynic or a pessimist? I think life is a fabulous, miraculous thing, the world never stops fascinating me, and I want to spend my life studying it. I just don't delude myself that it can ever be fair."

"But that's no reason not to try to make it fair _er_ ," Matt countered, and Alex hid again, groaning.

"Not having this discussion again. _Ever_. For the sake of my sanity, let's just say that I agree with Chen and you can continue arguing with him."

"Alex..." Matt tried, but the other looked up, shaking his head and looking quite exasperated.

"This is the 207th time we've touched on this subject - and _trust_ me, I can name the time and place of every single instant - and I've had enough, OK? I can't be who you are, even though I admire the hell out of you. So, can we change the subject please? Pretend that Josh is here and talk about which of the Seven Wonders of the World is the most extraordinary."

It was now Matt's turn to sigh deeply. "And how often have we discussed _that_?"

"Only 153!" Alex said, beaming. “Although, to be fair, _time-wise_ we have spent longer on it. Not that there’s a huge difference...”

Matt held up a hand. “Don’t. I believe you. Have you got your laptop?”

“Always!” Alex replied, and fished it out of his bag, before looking at Chen and Allison, who’d been keeping quiet through the argument.

"You need to see Josh’s drawings to give you a sense of perspective.”

“OK...” Allison replied, and Matt smiled at her confusion, as Alex was busy bringing up the images.

"He wants to re-create them. Josh that is."

“Re-create the Seven Wonders?” Chen asked, stunned, and Alex nodded proudly as he turned the laptop towards them.

"So much more than a pretty face, our Josh. He's studying architecture for a reason!"

All in all, Allison reflected later that day, it had been quite an interesting lunchtime.

***

Devoting Saturday to shopping had been Chelsea’s idea, but one that Allison had happily taken her up on. It had been far too long since she’d had a proper girl-y day, and Chelsea had obviously discovered all the best shops by now, judging by her ever-changing wardrobe. And although there was a small part of Allison that wished that _she_ could be long-legged and blonde and have the ability to knot a scarf _just so_ , realistically she knew that this would never happen and settled for just enjoying Chelsea’s company. She was beginning to miss her family and all her old friends, so it was nice to have a proper girl friend...

But as they walked through town, laden with bags and rolling their eyes at the Halloween/Bonfire Night decorations that had yet to be taken down, as well as the early Christmas stuff, Chelsea suddenly grabbed her arm.

"Oh my God, Allie who is that guy? The one walking with Alex?"

Allison looked around, and saw a by-now familiar gorgeous face approaching on the other side of the road.

"Oh that's Josh. He's one of Alex's flatmates."

"You _know_ him?" Chelsea asked, in a voice heavy with accusation, as if Allison had maliciously kept this information from her.

"Um, sort of?"

"Well let's go say hello!" Chelsea decided, before catching herself.

"He's not seeing someone, is he?"

Allison pondered this.

"Well from what I know he's seeing a lot of some _ones_. But no, there's no one exclusive."

"Brilliant!" Chelsea breathed, and dragged Allison across the road.

"Chelsea - I don't think it's a good idea..." she said, helplessly, but her friend was _very_ determined once she set her mind to something.

Thankfully Alex seemed to encounter this sort of thing regularly, and made the introductions smoothly. As Chelsea started chatting to Josh, Allison noticed the weekend-bag slung across Alex's shoulder.

"Going somewhere?"

He nodded. "I’m off to London."

"What's in London?" she asked, curious.

He looked puzzled. "It's Remembrance Sunday tomorrow. We're _always_ at the Cenotaph."

"Right," she answered - wondering at who 'we' were and why 'always' - but before she could continue with her nosiness he glanced at his watch.

"And I've got to go if I'm to catch my train. See you later, OK? Josh - behave yourself."

Josh shot him a droll look.

"When do I not? And say hello to the King for me!"

"Will do!" Alex laughed, and then walked off towards the station, leaving Allison with a major case of third wheel syndrome, since Chelsea was clearly torn between wishing to get to know Josh better, and yet not wanting to flake out on Allison.

Deciding to leave them to it, Allison excused herself. She’d got most of her shopping done anyway, and was determined to use the weekend to make her side of the room look a bit more homely. At the moment it contrasted rather sharply with Muniba’s beautiful throws and wall hangings, since Allison hadn’t got further than putting up her giant Simpsons poster, and cover her desk with random oddments and textbooks.

But before she could do any decorating there was washing, cleaning and tidying to be done... In some ways college really sucked.

*** 

It was a cold, wet night, as befitted mid-November, and there were seven of them squeezed around a table for four. But the ADC theatre bar was full, and Chelsea, for one, was certainly getting plenty of mileage out of the close proximity to Josh. Of course she had Mike on the other side, and Allison yet again felt like she was stuck in Hollyoaks, the University Spinoff. If only Josh would develop a crush on Mike they'd have a perfect little triangle going... (An unlikely scenario, given the looks Josh was sending the evening's bartender.)

Alex, Matt and Chen either didn't notice, or - more likely - didn't care, and the conversation was flowing well, despite the hidden pining. Josh, who had got himself involved in stage design, was telling them about the problems involved in starting up the newest theatre production, but every so often he was interrupted by peals of laughter from a neighbouring table, where the resident McHottie and top actor - name of Tarquin - was entertaining a gaggle of impressionable First Year girls.

“Check out Casanova!” Mike muttered glumly, and Alex shot the lothario a droll look.  
   
“Amateur.”  
   
Mike - who, in Allison’s opinion, had a bit of a chip on his shoulder - scoffed.  
   
“As if you could do better!”

Alex raised an eyebrow, almost wrinkling his nose.

“Of course I could, but why would I want to?”  
   
“Oh of course. You don’t _want_ to,” Mike replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.  
   
Alex’s eyes narrowed, and the rest of the table fell silent. Allison wondered what would happen next - Alex was charming when he wanted to be, but he didn't have the kind of face that made people drag their friends across the street just for an introduction...

The glint in his eyes was one she recognised though - it was pure competitiveness, something she remembered from untold fights with her brothers.  
   
Then from one moment to the next his whole demeanour changed. He dipped his head so he was looking at Mike through his eyelashes, and his voice became low, intimate, and soft as honey, as he leaned forward.  
   
“Mike. Flirting is a language like any other, and I’ll have you know that I am bloody _brilliant_ at languages. But don’t worry...”  
   
He reached out, laid his hand on top of Mike’s, whilst tilting his head a fraction and letting a confidential smile touch the corner of his mouth.  
   
“...I’ll be _more_ than happy to teach you.”  
   
Mike, looking thoroughly freaked out, pulled his hand away as if burned, and Alex laughed, returning to normal in the blink of an eye, before picking up his pint.

“I believe I made my point?”  
   
Mike was just staring, shaking his head as he dragged a hand nervously through his black hair.  
   
“What the _hell_ was that?”  
   
Alex shrugged.  
   
“Just a little something I picked up from my friend Jack. But don't worry, I've not had a secret crush on you this whole time. You’re kinda cute, true, but I just don't swing that way. Although if I did, I'm afraid I'd be pursuing Chen. Well..."  
   
He shot Chen a raised eyebrow, and then added something in Chinese that had Chen choking on his drink, and staring up at Alex in pure shock as he tried to stop coughing.

“OK! Subtitles please,” Matt called out, but both Alex and Chen shook their heads vehemently.  
   
“Let’s just say that I’m making Jack proud tonight,” Alex said smugly, and Matt suddenly looked thoughtful, shooting Josh a significant look. Josh nodded.

“Got it. Don’t want to know.”

Chen muttered, "Very strange. Very very strange. I do _not_ understand the English," to himself, and Mike nodded glumly.

"Right there with you."

Chen looked surprised.

“But... are you not English?”

Mike looked like he was going to explode for the second time that night.

“I’m _Irish_! My name is _Michael O’Reilly_! For Christ’s sake, didn’t the accent give you a clue?”

Alex chuckled as poor Chen stared back in silent bewilderment.

“ _His_ accent-” he pointed to Chen, “-is pure Hong Kong. Can’t you tell? And going by his name, I’m guessing he’s descended from Chen Hugong. Am I right?”

Chen nodded slowly, grateful for the rescue. “That is true. How do you know this?”

Alex smiled. “I like history. Also I like your name, although that’s probably because we’re namesakes.”

“Excuse me?” Chelsea said, incredulous, and Alex chuckled as he tilted his head.

“Chen means ‘great’, and my full name is ‘Alexander the Great’. See?”

“No. Way.” Mike said, but Alex just smiled enigmatically, then asked Josh if he’d like to get another round. Josh happily leapt to his feet and took orders, and Allison used the break as an excuse to leave, saying that she didn't feel well, which wasn't a complete lie. Muniba had come down with a cold, and she thought she might have caught it herself.

Mostly though, she just needed some space, and as she walked back to her college one specific scene kept replaying in her mind...  
    
It wasn't the flirting per se - it had been funny - but there was something about the way the change in Alex had been so... _effortless_. She couldn't quite put her finger on why it was so unsettling, although maybe - and she hated herself for thinking it - it had something to do with his father. A man who had, after all, fooled the whole of the British public for a very long time indeed. Not that she suspected Alex of having multiple personalities or anything like that, but...

He did this _thing_. This thing where he made everyone like him. It was nothing so blatant as the over-the-top flirting, but not entirely unrelated. Something so subtle that she wasn't even sure he knew he was doing it.

And he was always so _in control_. Despite frequently getting carried away by enthusiasm, he always chose his words with care. It just wasn't _normal_.

Of course being 'not normal' was something he admitted to quite readily.

But in spite of that - or maybe because of it - he seemed able to just do whatever he wanted, moving through university life as if rules were an excellent thing, but something that only applied to other people. All in all, when looked at in a suspicious light, it was pretty worrying.

She sighed deeply, and with great stealth opened the door to her room. She was getting paranoid. Which was ridiculous, because - despite being impossibly clever - he was quite obviously _just a guy_. His friends (who wasted no opportunity for cutting him down to size) were a definite proof of that. And really, if she wanted a comparison in the peculiarity stakes she needed to look no further than her older brother, Toby...

No, it wasn't _him_ that was the problem. The problem was the fact that she was spending _entirely_ too much time thinking about him. And she didn't know what to do about that.


	5. Chapter 5

Allison had a nasty suspicion that she was coming down with a cold.

Also, she was feeling very uncertain about Alexander Saxon.

And yet, when he called up the day after the flirting-incident and asked if she’d like to come along to the comedy gig at the Student Union that evening, she said yes without a second’s hesitation.

Telling herself very sternly to stop being stupid (although whether she was stupid for saying yes, or for worrying, she didn’t know), she very deliberately chose clothes that were warm and sensible rather than pretty. And then at the last minute put on some make-up...

As if anyone would look at _her_ with Josh and Chelsea around, she thought wryly. But - for reasons she very carefully didn’t examine too closely - she didn’t want Alex to think that she hadn’t made an effort.

Muniba, wrapped up in shawls and surrounded by cold remedies, lifted an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. Allison was, yet again, exceptionally grateful for her room mate. They didn’t have much in common really, but somehow that worked very well.

Half an hour later she found Alex in the queue outside the Union - and discovered that everyone else in their little gang was elsewhere.

Matt _might_ make it later, but the gig had clashed with some worthy prior engagement. Josh (whose idea the whole thing had been to begin with) had vanished with the bartender the night before and had yet to re-emerge... Nearly 24 hours and counting, Alex commented with barely contained glee. And when Allison called Chelsea, her friend was heading for some dance-thing or other, Mike in tow.

Chen was laid up with a cold.

“It’s good that I’m as talkative as all of them put together!” Alex grinned, and Allison shook her head. He was also weirder (and more unsettling) than all of the others squared.

But she’d come to be entertained - and had never been to a live comedy show before - so she was certainly not leaving.

The evening started well as a lot of hopefuls took their turn at the mike to general enjoyment, and the mood was running high as the main act walked on stage. He took a moment to survey the room before speaking.

"So... this is the future hope of Britain. The brightest minds in the land. Those who will steer us through the rough waters ahead. And..." his eyes narrowed as he focussed on someone to the left of the stage, "...they wear T-shirts saying 'I'm with stupid!' Not very reassuring."

Laughter rose, and the comedian’s eyes roved further afield, clearly looking for more victims, before fastening on Alex.

"Now, who have we got here? Unless my eyes betray me, this looks like someone related to our very own Mr Saxon!"

"It's his son!" someone yelled, and the comic was clearly thrilled.

"Well, well, well - all the best to you, kid. And what do I spy - do you have a lovely lady friend there with you?"

Allison blushed and tried her best to ignore the sudden attention, even as she fervently wished for the rest of the group to have been there. They looked far too couple-y at their little table for two.

"Now better be careful dear, or you might not get home in one piece. We all know what those Saxons were like, don't we?"

There was delighted laughter, and Allison smiled thinly, hoping he'd move on soon. Engaging would only make it worse, that much was obvious.

She should have known that Alex wouldn't see it the same way, and could feel her stomach sink down through the floor as his voice cut through the laughter.

"I resent what you're implying."

A sudden expectant hush fell over the room.

“Do you now young man? Can I ask which part exactly you’re ‘resenting’?”

The comedian was almost visibly flexing in anticipation of dealing with this unexpected heckler; but Alex didn’t seem to notice, as he studied the man, eyes cold and reflective.

“Oh there’s several things. First of all, I resent you casting my friend in the role of victim, just because she happens to be female. Most women, in my experience, would be able to foil an entire Saxon invasion without breaking a sweat. But then maybe you don’t know any actual women, so...”

He shrugged, a small superior smile on his face, and the comedian opened his mouth. The smile vanished.

“Do _not_ interrupt me. Secondly I resent the implication that I would ever harm her, based on my parentage. You are disrespecting me, my friend, and the family of every person my father murdered."

The comedian looked distinctly uncomfortable, smiling nervously.

“Look son, didn’t mean to upset you...”

Alex inclined his head, and no ancient Emperor could have been more regal.

“Apology accepted. Still...”

He got up, pulled on his jacket, “...I should probably go. I’m obviously cramping your style. Which is a shame, since I came here to be entertained; I don’t think it’s going to happen though, do you? Would ask for my money back, to be honest, except-” his eyes trailed over the comedian with something like pity, “-I think you probably need it more than I.”

Not waiting for an answer he walked out, and - after a moment’s hesitation - Allison jumped up, grabbed her coat and followed, ignoring the hooting that rang out after them.

When she caught up with him he was walking down the road, hands imbedded in his jacket pockets. He was determinedly staring at the ground and not showing that he’d noticed her in any way, but after a moment he started speaking.

“Guess I ought to have mentioned that I turn into an arrogant entitled jerk when I get pissed off.”

He shot her a swift, joyless smile, and then focussed on the ground again.

“Well I’m always arrogant, but I usually try to avoid taking the fact that I’m the son of Harold bloody Saxon and shoving all my superiority and privilege down people’s throats, and then _jumping_ on them for good measure.”

For just a second she was completely lost for words, and stopped stock still. Surely she’d misheard... or he’d misspoken. Because...

“You think that... being your father’s son... makes you _privileged_?” she asked, incredulous, and he turned to her, opened his mouth- and then stopped.

“I-” he started after a second, but then stopped again, and she realised that for the first time in the month-and-a-half she’d known him, he was _actually_ speechless.

She also realised something else. Something so obvious that she could hardly believe she’d not seen it before... Alex was always so focussed outwards - towards people, or new experiences, new things to learn - that it was nigh-on impossible to find out who _he_ was, and it had worried her. But - watching his confusion - in a sudden split-second illumination she understood that it was because _he didn’t know himself_. Everyone - of course - commented on the fact that he was his father’s son. But his father was a _mass murderer_. How did you deal with something like that? Looking at him now, the answer was clearly ‘with great difficulty’.

Impulsively she stepped closer, put her hands on his face - and kissed him.

For a second he froze in surprise; but then he leaned into the kiss, gently wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer. His lips were cool and soft, and she could feel the tremor running through him as he deepened the kiss... It was the most incredible feeling: Like stepping into thin air, and realising that it could support you.

When they broke apart he still looked shell shocked, although he was now smiling tentatively.

“What happened to just being friends?” he asked after a moment, and she shrugged.

“I changed my mind. That’s OK right?”

For a moment it looked as he was _literally_ turning the question over in his head, and she was about to point out that dating had been _his_ idea when he shook his head.

“Of course. It’s... it’s _more_ than OK. Sorry, I’m just...” he stopped, and searched her eyes.

“Can I ask why? I didn’t think that being a jerk was a particularly endearing trait...”

She bit her lip, and tried to put her new-found insight into words.

“Because... I guess it’s nice to see that underneath all the smarts and cleverness you’re only human after all.”

His reaction to this rather clichéd statement was not at all what she’d expected. Instead of a smart-arsy quip, he looked like he was trying to fight back tears.

“That’s-” he took a deep breath, trying to get his voice under control.

“I... No one’s ever...”

He reached up and gently cupped her cheek, voice barely above a whisper.

“ _Thank_ you. I can’t- I can’t tell you what that means to me.”

She studied him, puzzled.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m...” he started, then fell silent, slowly taking her hands in his. For a long moment he just looked at her, and she wondered what was going through his head.

“Sorry,” he finally said. “I’m just overwhelmed and... things. I want this. You and me. Like this. This is good.”

“You are _so_ weird,” she said - because _obviously_ it was good, and it was quite clear that he wanted it - shaking her head at his odd seriousness, and he smiled softly.

“Sorry. I can’t help it.”

“Obviously not,” she said, and he laughed, snapping out of the odd mood and face lighting up in a smile so bright that she felt she almost needed sunglasses - a whole host of butterflies that she’d never been aware of before suddenly making her insides do the strangest things.

It was The Saxon Smile (TM), and he was smiling it for _her_. Just her.

“Can I kiss you again?” he asked, and this time it was her turn to laugh.

A small part of her brain told her that snogging the face off Alexander Saxon just down the road from the Student Union on a Saturday night wasn’t the most subtle thing in the world, but quite frankly she didn’t give a damn. She’d never been one for doing things by halves.

Especially since he was a really, really excellent kisser. (Something she had been kinda expecting, but even so... She felt all light-headed.)

As they broke apart, she couldn’t help but shake her head again.

“What?” he asked, and she smiled wryly.

“Well I told myself that I was _totally_ going to focus on my studies and not get distracted by boys. And here I am, not even two months in, and already I’ve got a boyfriend.”

He looked somewhat surprised. “I’m a boyfriend?”

She looked at him drolly. “That’s generally the way it works.”

He nodded thoughtfully, rubbing his neck. “I guess. Huh. I’ve never been a boyfriend before. It’s an interesting feeling.”

She blinked, eyebrows lifting.

“Seriously? You never had a girlfriend?”

He hesitated. “I had a... 'mutually beneficial partnership' when I was in my last year of high school - we made it _look_ like a relationship, but mostly we just ran the school together. From behind the scenes of course.”

Seeing the look on her face, he chuckled. “It was fun. But it wasn't real dating, no.”

"So - you didn't even kiss?"

He shook his head firmly.

"Nope. Although I'm beginning to realise that might have been a mistake..."

"Right," she replied, trying to get her head around this. She was his _first_ , quite literally. Not quite sure what to do with this knowledge, she decided to change the subject.

“So... where do we go now?”

“Where’d you like to go?” he replied, and she took his hand with a smile. It didn’t really matter, did it?

They ended up in Caffe Nero, squeezed together on a small cosy leather sofa, talking about everything and nothing, drinking hot chocolate and kissing. Allison was trying her best to get her head around the fact that he was _hers_ \- all that cleverness and fun and charm and seemingly endless knowledge was _all hers_ , and she almost wanted to put a sign on him saying ‘Property of Allison Whitwell’. This was the result of being a younger sibling in a large family she knew, of always getting hand-me-downs, and people borrowing things without asking, and having to guard everything like a lioness. Although considering what he’d told her about his previous dating history he wasn’t likely to stray... She wondered what he saw in her, but knew that was the sort of question that’d only drive her insane.

They got tossed out of Caffe Nero at closing time, and then wandered around the streets for what felt like five minutes, but turned out to be several hours. When they finally said goodbye it was past one o’clock in the morning, and Allison was exceedingly grateful that she’d gone for warmth when heading out. How Alex wasn’t frozen solid in nothing but his denim jacket over a T-shirt she couldn’t fathom.

“Goodnight my love... Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say goodnight till it be morrow,” Alex exclaimed, with a flourish and an added kiss, and she laughed.

‘Weird’ had a lot going for it.

***

The next morning Muniba woke her with a cup of camomile tea (since she was making a pot anyway, she said) and Allison, unable to contain her news, immediately told her about what had happened. Muniba was a star and didn’t say ‘I _totally_ saw that coming’ - not out loud anyway - and then wrapped up warm and headed out to see her tutor to talk about the lectures she’d missed.

After a slice of toast with plum jam, a shower, and pulling on a pretty top and some nice jeans, Allison decided that it was time to tackle the family. Fishing the laptop out of her bag she made sure that the built-in camera still worked, then brought up her various home sites, changed her relationship status across all of them - and waited.

It only took eight minutes for the telltale ‘Someone wants to talk to you’ ping, and (of course) it was Amanda. (Who else would be sat in front of a screen, working, on a Sunday morning?)

“Hey there Allie. Did you decide that NatSci was too boring, and boys would make a better subject for studying?”

Big sisters, they never changed. And it didn’t help that Amanda was Oldest Sibling and _Focussed_ and _Successful_ , and never _ever_ got distracted from her goals.

“Shut up, Amanda. It’s not like that.”

Amanda just smiled. “So what _is_ it like?”

And now the fun would begin... It was all bubbling inside, half nervousness and half pride, and Allison took a deep breath.

“It’s Alexander Saxon.”

Amanda’s eyes widened, and it took a moment or two for her to find her voice.

“ _Really_? Well mum told me he was in your class, but... _Interesting_... I’m presuming you’ve not been seduced by his fame and riches? Dad would have a triple heart attack if you became a Trophy Wife.”

Allison didn’t bother answering as she could tell that Amanda was already busy instant messaging everyone else, and idly wondered what it might be like to be part of a small family - or at least a family where every bit of news didn’t warrant an impromptu video conference.

“So what’s he like?” Amanda asked the second she’d finished typing, and Allison hesitated.

“He’s very clever obviously, and charming and, well a genius, really, but...” she searched for the right words. “A bit peculiar?”

Amanda raised a perfectly arched eyebrow.

“‘A bit peculiar’? Are we talking undercover secret agent here?”

Allison chuckled - she’d not until just then realised where she'd borrowed the term from - and shook her head vehemently.

“Sorry, bad choice of words. He is as far from an army guy as you can imagine - he marches to his own drumbeat even more than Toby, I think. OK, that sounds all wrong. Wait - eccentric! That’s the word I’m after. He’s very eccentric.”

At that point Ella joined the conversation, a wriggling baby apparently trying to crawl over her ample shoulder.

“Allie! Big Sis informs me that you got yourself a fella. Well done darling! For a while there I was worried you were going to follow in Amanda's footsteps and challenge her for the title of Most Boring Student Ever.”

“Oh Ella, _please_!” Amanda cut through, but they both ignored her.

“So, has he got a name?”

Allison bit her lip.

“It’s Alexander Saxon.”

Ella’s blinked, then laughed in surprise.

“You’re _kidding_! The Prime Minister’s kid? Well hot _damn_. I’ll look out for you in Heat Magazine!”

Allison sighed.

“It’s not like that...”

And at that moment her mum appeared, Jimmy hovering behind her.

“Allison. Congratulations. I thought something might be up - you’ve not updated for ages.”

Allison tried not to sigh - how typical was it for mum to congratulate and berate her in the same breath.

“Thank you. And before you ask...” she shot Jimmy a warning glance, feeling like a stuck record. “It... it’s Alexander Saxon.”

As predicted, Jimmy’s face was pure wicked delight.

“Hey Al - I don’t think _that’s_ what mum meant when she told you to ‘look after him’.”

Little brothers should be _banned_.

“ _Don’t call me Al!_ And shut _up_ Jimmy. I just... I just like him.”

“I _bet_ you do,” he countered, smirking, and she sighed deeply, trying to stomp down on her intense desire to reach through the screen and hit him. Hard.

“Mum- can you make him go away?”

“Jimmy! Behave. But do tell me what happened Allison...”

Before she could begin, a message flashed on the screen. And she couldn’t help smiling, because it was so _perfectly_ Alex to appear at just the right time.

“Well, here he is in person,” she said, and with a flourish added him to their family network.

Immediately everyone’s attention was focussed on Alex’s smiling face. Allison could tell that he was in his bedroom, the blue Serenity poster filling up the background, and thought that really it didn’t match her own Simpsons one very well... But then opposites attracted and all that.

“Hello!” he waved. “My virtual ears were burning, so I came looking. Would I be right in guessing you’re the people who will beat me to death with a shovel if I hurt Allie in any way?”

Her father’s off-screen guffaw made Allison bite her lip, and Alex held up a hand.

“I should add that I do not think Allison in any way incapable of wielding a shovel herself, nor do I anticipate the necessity for such an action at any point. Just thought I’d point out that I know that there might be some tension in the air.”

Her father appeared on screen then, glasses halfway down his nose as usual, and a wide grin on his face.

“Young man - I like you!”

Alex smiled back.

“Well from what I’ve been told of yourself, sir, the feeling is entirely mutual.”

“Did he just say ‘sir’?” Ella asked, and Alex shifted his attention.

“I’m a very polite sort of person.”

“No kidding!” Ella replied. “I’m Ella by the way.”

Then there followed a round-robin of introductions - in which spouses and offspring were produced to ‘come and say hello to Allison’s new boyfriend’ - and they had to narrate a cut-down version of the previous evening’s events.... before going back to their very first meeting, because everyone was _curious_.

Alex was - of course - charming and friendly and said all the right things, and Allison had to suppress her overwhelming urge to point out how she had won the boyfriend jackpot.

But then halfway through a sentence he suddenly cocked his head, listening.

“Oh! That’s Josh!”

His eyes lit up with pure mischief, and then he hastily excused himself.

“Sorry, got to go - it’s my flatmate... He’s been missing since Friday night, and I need to go mock him mercilessly.”

“Missing?” Allison’s mum asked, concerned, and Alex’s smile became even wider.

“There was a bartender... a very, _very_ pretty bartender. And I’ve got more puns than a year’s worth of tabloids all ready and waiting! Oh- Allie? You wanna come round for lunch? I can’t promise a proper Sunday roast - unless you fancy a romantic trip to Sainsbury’s - but we can probably scrape something nice together.”

“Sure,” she replied, and he grinned, waved goodbye, and logged off.

For a moment Allison didn’t know quite what to say, but then her mother smiled.

“Well he seems very nice. See if you can bring him home for Christmas?”

She nodded. Of course. “I’ll ask, but I’m sure he actually has a family to be with already...”

Then, as always happened, the talk turned to general gossip, and all the men drifted away as Mum, Amanda and Ella started discussing the best way to deal with poorly children.

Allison said goodbye too, and then got on with writing a Mail-to-Everyone about her new boyfriend (including a link to his home site, ‘cause she wasn’t feeling energetic enough to try to explain him in any kind of detail), and hit send. Her friends were scattered all over now - some gap-yearing around the world, some working, some at university - and the thought of calling them all up individually was enough to make her head hurt.

Also she wanted to get to Alex’s as soon as possible.

Oh she had it _bad_.

She arrived just as Josh was leaving - still with his bartender in tow. Apparently they’d only come to get something to eat and were now heading out again. The bartender turned out to be called Jamie, and shook Allison’s hand with an air of polite disinterest, although it was hard to tell anything thanks to the the curtain of golden blonde hair obscuring the eyes. Allison got an impression of serious eyeliner and lip gloss, which - added to the long, loosely fitted top, skinny jeans (black) and converse - managed to take androgyny to new heights.

When they’d left she turned to Alex, who was watching the door with a deeply speculative air, and asked the question she presumed he was pondering too.

“So... Was that a boy or a girl?”

He turned to her, surprised.

“Does it matter?”

She found herself taken aback, and stumbled over a reply.

“No course not, I- I just...”

Alex chuckled, looking at her with a strange proud delight that made her stomach flutter.

“Oh you’re _such_ a scientist - you just _need_ to catalogue things, don’t you?”

Despite it being true, he was also rather patronising, but as she opened her mouth she saw Matt roll his eyes, making a _‘I don’t have clue either!’_ gesture behind Alex’s back, and she had to bite back a laugh.

Walking in to the kitchen and looking through cupboards, Alex started nattering about how people couldn’t be put in boxes - which was one of the great things about them - and filling in some details about Josh’s background, the most prominent being that he’d been brought up by his mother and grandmother, and had barely been able to so much as _look_ at a girl (never mind a boy) when at home without the third degree, and that this was at the root of his current philandering.

“Although Jamie... That could get interesting,” he added thoughtfully, but before Allison could follow up on this cryptic statement her phone buzzed, and she had to try to deal with Chelsea, who was crowing ‘What did I say, eh?’

When Allison finally managed to say goodbye, Alex was sitting on the work top, idly tapping out a complicated rhythm until she caught his attention.

“Right. I’m afraid The Gorgeous Invasion ate most of what I was planning on cooking with. So - wanna go out and get something? I mean a restaurant, not Sainsbury’s!”

“Sure,” she replied, grateful that she’d put on a pretty top - but Matt declined when given the same offer.

“As if I’d want to spend the whole meal being a gooseberry. You two have fun.”

They ended up in the Greek restaurant again, and Allison couldn’t understand how she’d not previously noticed how incredibly romantic it was. Although being at a tiny table for two probably helped...

Halfway through the meal her phone beeped, and she saw it was a message from Toby. He’d been absent from the ‘conference’, which hadn’t surprised her at all - as the only introvert in a family of extroverts, he avoided face-to-face interaction as much as possible.

The message was short and to the point, and just so _Toby_ she wished he was there so she could give him a big hug (which she knew would make him squirm uncomfortably).

_Congrats Allie. Your chap looks smart and dishy, so I’m figuring he ought to hold your interest for a good while. Is mum getting you to drag him home for Christmas? If so, I look forward to meeting him.  
Toby_

She showed Alex ('Look - message from my older brother!'), who preened and said ‘I’m dishy?’, to which she shrugged.

“You’ll do.”

He laughed, and Allison wondered why on Earth she’d been so worried about him.


	6. (Interlude featuring Josh)

Josh was the first of their little trio to hit puberty, age 12 and a half, and it came as very nasty surprise. Overnight he seemed to shoot up, and from having been the littlest and cutest (something he knew how to use to his advantage) he was suddenly the tallest, his body long and unfamiliar and behaving in all sorts of... _unexpected_ ways.

Also there were girls everywhere. Theoretically he knew that they had to have been there all along, but now he couldn’t seem to focus on anything else... Girls, enticing and mysterious and remote (and wearing very short skirts). How did you talk to them? Because you needed to talk before you could do... _other_ things. 

Added to all this he became obsessed with his appearance, trying to tame his new body any way he could - and he discovered a new sense of pleasure looking in the mirror and seeing the result of his work. 

His friends weren’t much help. Matt seemed to be mostly alarmed, and Alex was even worse, commenting how it was all ‘perfectly normal development’, and would Josh mind explaining how it felt - it was fascinating from a scientific perspective.

Josh threw a book at him (that Alex of course caught, laughing), and sulked. He was very good at sulking. Life wasn’t fair, but at least it couldn’t get any worse. Or so he thought.

Because one day, out of the blue, he developed a crush on Jack. 

Until then Jack had just been one of Alex’s family friends... a sort of honorary uncle, who was fun and brilliant and cool beyond words, because he was some kind of secret government agent.

What Josh noticed now, however, was the way Jack’s coat swirled when he turned, the blue of his eyes and the bright radiance of his smile, the way he wrapped his American vowels around words... And it was all _wrong_. Jack was _old_ \- like _forty_ or something - and he was... very much not a girl. It made Josh think of uncomfortable, unwanted words all ending in ‘sexuality’, and Josh lived in perpetual terror that someone would find him out. 

So, whenever Jack was round at Alex’s, Josh did his best to be monosyllabic and hid behind his swiftly-growing (and very carefully arranged) hair. Even so he could feel Jack’s eyes bore into him, and suffered a thousand agonies. 

Then came the day - he was thirteen and a quarter - when Jack picked them all up from school, ‘since he was in town anyway’, and gave them lifts home - all three of them squeezed into the roomy front seat of the SUV. Alex was first to go (extracting a promise from Jack to come round as soon as possible), and then it was Matt’s turn. It was getting dark, and Josh waved goodbye with a sinking heart before slinking into the corner by the door - as far from Jack as possible.

Pulling back into the road, and tapping Josh’s address into the sat nav, Jack asked the question so casually that at first it didn’t actually register.

“So Josh - has anyone actually ever talked to you about sex?”

Josh went hot and cold and hot again, and seriously contemplated opening the door and jumping out. When he didn’t answer Jack turned and looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Didn’t think so. And with your father a nonentity, I thought someone ought to step in. Especially considering...” he stopped, eyes narrowing, “...your specific talents.”

“What... what do you mean?” Josh asked, voice all squeaky, but Jack didn’t seem to notice.

“You’re very smart, and you’re very beautiful. Essentially you’ve won the DNA lottery, but if you don’t know how to use it...”

“I... I’m beautiful?” 

The words were more a breath than a question, and he could feel his heart beating very fast all of a sudden.

Jack chuckled.

“Josh - people are going to walk into lamp posts when they see your face. A few years down the line all the girls will be throwing themselves at you. And a lot of the boys too, probably.”

Josh felt like he’d fallen into a parallel universe.

“Really?”

“Oooh yes. Which is why I’m going to talk to you - since I happen to know what life is like when you’re gorgeous _and_ clever, and figure you could do with some help. Also, sex education in schools in this day and age is _atrocious_.”

They’d hit rush hour - which, since they were in London, of course meant that traffic had slowed to a snail-like pace. Josh listened to Jack with rapt attention, as his new mentor gave him a more unusual guide to life than he could ever have imagined. Best of all Jack appeared to be _incapable_ of embarrassment and was happy to explain anything and everything, even with only the most basic and mortified of prompting. And it was all so _useful_ \- what to say to girls (or boys), what _not_ to say, how to deal with rejection or unwelcome attention... a million whys and hows. 

Most importantly - and Jack was very firm on that point - it was all _good_. There was nothing wrong with Josh, no matter what - or who - he liked. 

Josh nodded, but avoided Jack’s keen eyes. 

As they drew up outside his building a little later, Jack pulled out an envelope from an inside pocket.

“We can talk anytime you like, OK? Remember, you can ask me anything - no question too stupid. And this is for you.”

He handed the envelope over, which bore Josh’s name and the word ‘Private’ in large letters.

“Thank you,” he said, searching for something to convey his gratitude properly. “For... for everything.”

“My pleasure,” Jack replied, blue eyes soft and sparkling, and Josh quickly climbed out of the car before he could say something _really_ stupid, envelope in his hand and bag slung over his shoulder.

In his bedroom, a few breathless minutes later, he opened the letter and pulled out a single piece of paper.

_This voucher entitles Joshua Levin to one kiss from Capt Jack Harkness on his sixteenth birthday, or any time thereafter._

_CJH_

He sat staring at it in silence for so long that his mother came knocking on the door, asking what he was doing. With trembling hands he folded up the paper, wondering how in so few words Jack had managed to communicate so much...

***

_Friday Night, the ADC Theatre Bar, Cambridge, autumn 2025._

He still had the letter now, almost five years later - tucked away at the very back of his wallet. Like an insurance, or a talisman, or something. A link back to the boy he’d been, and a reminder to always be a class act. Although it was strange to consider how things had changed - and yet not.

Matt and Alex still had less dress sense between them than a bumblebee, and he knew they both thought that he’d ‘let loose’ once they’d arrived at university. This was partly true, since not having his mother and grandmother breathing down his neck all the time was very freeing. Mostly though, the only thing that had really changed was that he’d stopped being discreet (discretion yet another skill Jack had taught him, oddly enough).

But he still adhered to the ground rules he’d learned - be straightforward, be honest, be safe. Although it wasn’t easy to guarantee that the object of your affection was following the same rules... 

Once more he contemplated the horrible mistake that had been Cheating Bastard (as he had named the guy in his mind). Not that the night hadn’t been well spent ( _damn_ he’d been fit), but being woken by Cheating Bastard's outraged girlfriend screaming ‘ _Who the hell is that?’_ was so far one of the worst moments of his life.

But, there was no point in brooding, that much he knew.

So he’d decided to be a bit more proactive in his studies, and had got himself involved with stage design - like Palladio (Palladio being one of his architectural heroes). But the theatre (he had quickly discovered) meant the ADC theatre Bar, and the bar... well, the bar was staffed by one of the most intriguing creatures Josh had ever seen, whom he had already privately nicknamed ‘Gorgeous Bartender’.

She - or just possibly he - was impeccably dressed in a white shirt and black trousers, but the shoulder length golden hair was cut so as to obscure the face, giving only a glimpse of cool, calm eyes, and a perfectly made up mouth. It was tricky to get a proper look, since (s)he did her job swiftly and efficiently with a minimum of actual interaction.

Alex was entertaining their little gang, and - despite not paying much attention - Josh could tell that Allison was quite definitely developing something for Alex, a situation Josh dearly hoped would work out. If ever anyone had needed a girlfriend it was Alex... Or maybe it was just that both he and Matt really needed Alex to have one, because he was getting on their nerves.

Neither Josh nor Matt knew what Alex had done - except it couldn’t have been anything _inherently_ bad since Alex was quite clearly utterly unrepentant - but it had pissed off his Uncle to such a degree that Alex had been sent off to Cambridge, with no hope of appeal. As far as Josh could work out it was some sort of Time Lord version of The Naughty Step - particularly the way it made Alex sulk like a bored three-year old, something which annoyed Josh no end.

So a girlfriend might be just the ticket. And Allison didn’t appear to be overwhelmed by Alex’s innate brilliance in any way - a very important point - and was otherwise a fun (if somewhat argumentative) person to have around. 

Still, he happily left them all behind to fetch another round, determined to do his best to chat up his new discovery. And his best was pretty damn good, if he said so himself. 

When he didn’t hand over the payment for the drinks immediately, Gorgeous Bartender stopped and finally looked at him properly. Josh did his best Jack-impression.

“Can I ask, what’s your name?”

Blue-green eyes studied him, surprised and a bit suspicious. But after a moment he got an answer.

“I’m Jamie.”

Neither name, nor voice, gave the slightest indication of gender. Josh found himself even more curious. (Male, female, non-binary, gender-fluid, trans, something else again? So many delightful possibilities...) He smiled.

“Nice to meet you Jamie. I’m Josh.” 

He handed over the money, holding Jamie’s eyes for several seconds, until a small smile touched the other’s mouth, and Josh could feel victory flood through him. Tonight was going to be a _good_ night, oh yes.

Shortly before closing time Alex shooed the remainder of their gang out, only stopping briefly by Josh’s chair and murmuring ‘Have fun’ into his ear, and Josh swatted him - although it was certainly nice to have friends who understood you.

The bar slowly emptied of people, and after a while he was the only one left. 

Then Jamie appeared before him, keys in hand.

“We’re closed. Afraid you have to leave so I can lock up.”

“You going to make me wait outside?” he asked, and detected a hint of a frown on Jamie’s face.

“I’m sorry?”

Josh tilted his head. Surely he hadn’t misread the signs. Or maybe Jamie was playing hard to get? 

“I thought maybe you and me could... I dunno, what do you fancy? It’s Friday night - a drink, dancing, something else? I’m up for anything.”

Jamie stood very still, then slowly shook her - his - head.

“No. Sorry. It’s nice of you to ask, but... no.”

Josh stood up, confused. He was pretty good judge of these things by now, and he was sure that Jamie had been interested.

“Oh. I thought... My bad I guess. I mean, if now is not a good time, could we maybe arrange something?”

Another shake of the head, and Jamie’s voice was barely above a whisper now.

“No, I... It’s not you. Sorry again.”

Josh nodded, but still couldn’t shake the feeling that his initial impression had been correct. After he’d pulled on his jacket, he took a step towards the door, but then turned. 

“Look, if you ever change your mind...”

Jamie closed his - her - eyes and took a deep breath.

“Please - just _go_!”

And then - for the tiniest split-second - as Jamie’s eyes opened, they flickered. 

Human eyes were not supposed to flicker. Especially not flicker bright _purple_ , and Josh had a sudden illumination.

“You’re an alien!”

Jamie’s face froze, and Josh turned this development over in his head, before reaching a sudden - and unwelcome - conclusion.

“Oh. Does that mean that we’re not... compatible?”

He did a vague gesture, because he wasn’t sure how to mime inter-species sex, and Jamie looked as if they were about to faint.

“ _That’s_ your main concern?”

Josh tried to stop himself from blushing.

“I... I’m _so_ sorry, I make it sound like I’m thinking with my- well, I am, I suppose, but I didn’t mean to be so rude. Sorry. Again. One-track mind. I’ve just never met an alien like this... on my own I mean. I’m not quite sure of the protocol, especially since you seem pretty integrated into the culture and all.”

There was a long pause.

“You’ve... met aliens before?”

He nodded, and had to forcibly stop himself from blurting out ‘My best friend’s an alien!’ because Alex would be... _furious._

“Plenty of times. I have... friends... with... contacts... I’m not sure what to say, to be honest, a lot of it is classified. But yes, I’ve met aliens before. Never slept with any though.”

_(But Jack says it’s brilliant, and he’s never steered me wrong so far. Oh G-d, please don’t have tentacles...)_

Jamie was still looking at him like he’d grown another head.

“You’re not scared?”

Josh shook his head, nonplussed.

“Why would I be scared?”

_(I’ve met Harold Saxon. After that most other things kinda pale.)_

For a long moment Jamie didn’t move, but then slowly seemed to relax, the fight-or-flight tightness gradually ebbing away.

“I... I never thought it could be like this.”

“Like what?”

“This. I never thought anyone would just accept... me. Like this. Didn’t think people like you really existed.”

Josh wasn’t sure he was following.

“People like me?”

Jamie brushed back the long fringe, revealing a face every bit as gorgeous as Josh has expected, and let their eyes wander over him.

“People like you. People who don’t think that the only good alien is a dead alien.” A wry smile. “I’m only half-alien by the way, but I doubt that makes much of a difference to the crowds cheering the latest destroyed UFO.”

Despite having an IQ of Big Numbers, sometimes Josh felt that it took him forever to catch on.

“You mean you’ve never told anyone?”

“Who would I tell?”

There was a hardness in Jamie’s eyes that gave lie to the casualness of the words, and Josh nodded, taking on board the loneliness he could guess lay under the surface.

“I’m here now,” he replied. “If... if you want to talk about it?”

Jamie didn’t answer immediately, instead carefully walking over to the nearest sofa and sinking down into it, before looking back up at Josh.

“This is a dream, right? Any minute I’m going to wake up, and it’ll be morning and I’ll probably be late for work...”

“I could pinch you?” Josh offered, and Jamie suddenly smiled, features lighting up and making Josh quite breathless.

“I’m tempted to take you up on that, to be honest. But...” 

His new friend bit a nail, studying Josh intently and nervously.

“...would you like to... come round to my place? To... talk? Once I’m done clearing up?”

“Sure,” he replied, and Jamie looked at him silently for long moment.

“Thank you. I can’t tell you what that means to me.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it-” Josh started, but Jamie got up, cutting him off.

“This is either the best evening of my life, or I’ve gone completely insane. I’m still trying to decide. Please take a seat, I’ll be a while.”

Settling into the vacated leather sofa, Josh watched as Jamie swiftly and efficiently got the place in order, as he himself turned all the new information over in his head. He’d never really thought about what it might be like for (ordinary) aliens living on Earth, and made a firm promise to himself to do anything in his power to help Jamie any way he could.

Finally Jamie was done and re-emerged, clad in some sort of poncho-wrap that not one in a hundred people would buy (and not one in a thousand would wear well), coupled with tall brown boots (not a penny under £300, Josh would bet his life on it) - the whole thing finished off by some kind of knitted beret that ought to look terrible but instead provided the perfect accent to the rest of the outfit, and Josh felt himself go all hollow, as he zipped up his leather jacket. 

Living with two people who tended to wear the first thing they pulled out of their closet, and who thought that a comb was the only hair styling implement anyone needed, Josh drank in the sight in front of him with undiluted pleasure. The only one of their little circle who put any effort in to their outfit was Chelsea - who put in a _lot_ of effort and followed every trend - but Jamie had the sort of effortless quirky personal style that very few people could pull off. 

Josh couldn’t help study his companion as they set off, the slightly slanted eyes, narrow nose and high cheekbones - it was tempting to call it an elfin face, except the jaw was too strong, the mouth too determined. Like the outfit, the composite parts oughtn’t work together, and yet they made a riveting whole.

“Can I ask-” he started, uncertainly. “Do you have any special powers or anything?”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Jamie replied, shooting him a droll look. “But no, not really. The eyes... that’s largely involuntary, and does sod-all except freak people out. The only ‘power’ I have is that I’m a bit psychic - which comes in handy on busy nights - but mostly I just switch it off... Too depressing. Oh - and don’t worry, I’ve not been reading your mind. Well except making sure that you’re genuine...”

“O...kay,” he replied, and Jamie obviously sensed his discomfort.

“It’s... it’s a bit like reading body language - seeing people’s intentions; not some kind of scrolling text displaying their thoughts. Which I guess is a shame, since otherwise I could probably make a fortune...”

“Money is over rated,” Josh stated, and Jamie smiled.

“I think I like you Josh.”

Jamie’s flat turned out to be on the first floor of a tall Victorian house, and Josh had to do a double take as they entered. The hallway opened up to a cosy, cluttered sitting room crammed full of bookcases, with a large, battered sofa positioned in front of the fireplace. Of all the things Josh had been expecting, this was the last. 

Jamie shot him a look.

“I know. Socially awkward loner seeks solace in books. What can I say - I’m a cliché.”

Josh felt like saying that Jamie was as far as possible from a cliché, but Jamie wasn’t waiting for him to reply.

“Cup of tea? It’s a bit late, I know...”

“Tea would be lovely,” he answered, and - at Jamie’s hand wave - sat down on the sofa.

“I could start a fire?” he suggested without thinking, because _‘Fire good: Warm, cosy and romantic’_ was another Jack-tip that had made itself permanently at home in his mind. 

Jamie turned.

“Um sure, that’d be nice.”

As he raked out the cold ashes and built a new fire, Josh wondered at the completely surreal feel of the situation. One thing was sure - whatever kind of half-alien Jamie was, the _human_ part was clearly thoroughly English, and feeling as awkward as he was himself.

A while later they were both settled on the sofa, the small table in front of them laden with a sturdy brown teapot, a milk jug, two mugs and a plate of hobnobs.

Shooting Josh a swift look, Jamie took a sip of tea and began talking without any preamble, eyes fixed on the fire.

“Twenty three years ago my mother had a one-night-stand. She was on a work-related conference in Swansea, and met a guy in the bar who introduced himself as ‘having just arrived from Planet Gorgeous, and being very curious to learn more about human courtship’. This was before everyone knew that aliens were real, of course, or she’d have pepper sprayed him in a second and then called UNIT. Anyway, back then she just thought he was cheesy, but cute, and - since she was 35, and he looked about 25 - also quite flattered. When she discovered she was pregnant a month or so later, she was rather pleased - she’d always wanted children, and knew that time was running out on that score. Hence her being less than careful.

But she thought that she probably ought to tell him, and tried to track him down - only to discover that he’d been killed by a hit-and-run driver. So... that was that.

It wasn’t until a few weeks after I was born that she realised that maybe he’d been telling the truth. It was the eyes, of course.”

Another thoughtful sip of tea.

“Not much to tell about my childhood really. I was always the odd one out, but thankfully mum came across a documentary about transgendered children, so she had a label to put on me, and that’s actually worked very well. I was still... strange, but I was part of a minority that I could belong to...”

Jamie seemed lost in thought for a moment, then continued, voice soft and eyes lost in the flames.

“Even so, I used to make up stories where I was a lost alien princess... One day my people would come and take me back to their home planet, and finally I’d _fit_. And I’d live in a palace with funny robots and have a unicorn and meet a gorgeous prince and all the other things you get in fairy tales. Don’t know what I’d have done without books.”

Jamie had abandoned the tea mug, and now had her knees tucked under her chin, arms wrapped around them. (‘Princess’ meant that she was a she, right? Or at least identified as female.) Her golden hair looked as if it was glowing, and Josh could easily imagine her as a real princess. Then the jaw set, and the fairy tale evaporated.

“But you can’t hide in stories forever... When I was seventeen, mum was diagnosed with Motor Neurone Disease. I dropped out of school to look after her, which was pretty much a no-brainer since I loved mum and hated school.”

A deep breath, briefly closed eyes, then she continued.

“She- she died three years ago, when I was twenty. I sold the house and put everything into storage because I couldn’t face staying there - especially not with my family nagging - and I’d lost touch with my friends when mum was ill. Drifted for a while, until I ended up here. I like Cambridge... it’s old, and pretty, and I don’t stand out. Was lucky enough to find this flat, which was big enough for most of our- _my_ furniture. Sometimes I wish I’d gotten rid of it too, but it’s all I’ve got left, really. And I could never have parted from the books. And... that’s it. My story.”

The light from the fire danced over them, and Josh didn’t know what to say. The tale had been relayed without a single hint of self-pity or drama, although Jamie was obviously still very affected by her loss. 

“I’m sorry about your mum,” he said, somewhat helplessly. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, but Jamie was not very comfortable with physical contact as far as he could tell. 

Jamie rested her head on her knees, swallowing, before turning to face him.

“Thanks. Life’s a bitch, but I’m pretty used to that now.”

Then she frowned, and tilted her head a fraction more, and really loked at him.

“Except you’re here. And that - that just doesn’t fit. I stopped believing in fairy tale princes a long time ago...”

She suddenly smiled nervously, hands tightening around her arms, and voice faltering for a moment.

“Oh crap, this is like the worst segue in _history_ , but I don’t know how to do this. It’s just that I watched you all night, and now you’re here, actually here, which should be impossible... So-” 

She bit her lip, “-would you maybe like to... try... to work out if we’re compatible?”

He blinked, and hardly knew where to begin.

“Are you kidding? Of _course_. In a heartbeat.” 

Then his brain belatedly caught up. “Wait. Compatible. I thought- You’re not a girl then?”

Jamie didn’t move a muscle, yet the hurt (and defiant pride) was plain as day.

“I don’t hang out in the transgendered community just because I like the look.” 

“Oh. Right. Sorry to...” 

“No, my bad. Sorry. I get defensive about that. And... and don’t worry about what I said. You being here at all is more than I ever expected. Honestly just forget-”

_‘Sometimes,’_ Jack had once told Josh, _‘a kiss can solve all your problems. Other times it’ll ruin your chances for good. There are no hard and fast rules, but you’ll learn to tell the difference with time.’_

This time there was no doubt in Josh’s mind. He leaned over and cut off Jamie’s sentence with a kiss. The sort of deep, fuck-me-now kiss that he didn’t usually open with, but in the circumstances he thought it appropriate. 

Jamie’s mouth was surprised, but soft and willing, and not alien at all. Nor was the body that pressed itself against him, or the hands that pulled him closer.

When they finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, Josh carefully took Jamie’s face in his hands.

“Just in case that didn’t get the message across, you’re more than welcome to read my mind, because I’m pretty sure there’s only one thought in my head right now.”

This time it was Jamie who kissed _him_ , eyes blazing and jubilant, and Josh knew that he’d finally got something perfectly right. 

 

_Saturday midmorning._

Jamie half-turned to look at the alarm clock on the bedside table.

“You know, I ought to get up and go to work.”

Josh tightened his hold.

“Don’t.”

Jamie only had a single bed, the rest of the small bedroom being dominated by two huge wardrobes. Josh though that this was an exceedingly sensible arrangement, and liked the fact that they were squeezed together very much indeed. All night - even when asleep - his arms had been full of a soft, warm, luscious body, and he didn’t want to let go. 

( _‘There’s nothing more miraculous than the giving and receiving of pleasure,’_ Jack had told him. _‘And pleasure is pleasure, no matter the physical form.’_ Josh wanted to build a monument in Jack’s honour.)

“I’m the assistant manager, I can’t just _not go_ ,” Jamie said reproachfully, turning round to face him again, and Josh stroked hir back thoughtfully. 

(‘Hir’ was a lovely pronoun, he had decided. As was ‘sie’. Not surprisingly Jamie had been quite the fountain of wisdom when it came to such matters - the options were much broader than Josh had ever thought, and he’d swiftly soaked up the new knowledge.)

“Call your boss and tell them... tell them that you’re having a love-in, advancing inter-species relations, and that this very important project means you need the whole weekend off!”

“A love-in?”

There was laughter in Jamie’s eyes, and Josh nodded solemnly.

“This right here - you and me - will help build a future of peaceful coexistence and acceptance. It’s a drop in the ocean, but as time goes the whole ocean will change to be like us. Like _you._ ”

He tapped the tip of Jamie’s nose with his finger, still hardly able to believe his luck, and Jamie shook hir head.

“Whatever drugs you’re on, I think I want some.”

Josh sighed, because telling Jamie that he actually knew someone _from the future_ was probably not the thing right now.

“Or just pull a sickie. Go on. Go on go on go on go on...”

“Josh-”

“ _Please_? I’m not at all ready to let you go, even for a minute. You might be abducted by your father’s people and then I’d have to spend the rest of my life in mourning for my lost unearthly lover.”

Jamie shook hir head again, looking at him like he was ten.

“You’re sweet.”

“So you’ll stay?”

To be honest he _did_ feel like he was ten, and he’d just found a real, proper treasure, and had to guard it fiercely or someone would come and take it away.

A soft kiss, and then the hoped-for nod.

“I’ll stay.”

***

The love-in was a great success, even if Josh said so himself.

He’d decided that the thing to do was just to have fun, because that was what people needed after unexpectedly spilling their biggest secret. (It’s what Alex had needed, at least, and Josh figured that it’d probably work with Jamie too, despite them being as different as could be.)

They spent hours dressing up (Josh could happily have lived inside Jamie’s wardrobes forever more), and then doctored the resulting photos and videos in the most ridiculous ways. 

Now and again they’d grab some food and watch TV, mocking every outfit they saw, and talking at length about favourite films and shows and all the other things they suddenly needed to know about each other.

Later, when it got dark and they lit another fire, Josh - feeling that he ought to share a secret of his own - told Jamie about seeing the Taj Mahal when he was nine, and how this had led to him deciding that he wanted to be an architect. (Who wouldn’t want to use their life to create something extraordinary that would last for thousands of years?) And about how he hadn't known anything about his father until he was fifteen, and what he'd then found out hadn't been great. So they had their father-less-ness in common... (Not that he had ever thought his father was an alien, but that hollow of _not knowing_ was the same. And an actual alien would probably have been easier for his mother to bring home than the man she had fallen in love with.)

In the end they fell asleep on the sofa as the fire turned to embers, and Josh, sleepily watching Jamie’s eyes glow as sie rested hir head on his chest, thought that surely he was the luckiest boy in the whole world. 

 

_Sunday Morning._

“You know, unless you think starving is romantic, we’re going to have go out,” Jamie said, inspecting the fridge. “I was planning on doing some shopping yesterday morning. That was, of course, before I was seduced by a ravenous teenage boy who’s eating me out of house and home.”

Josh laughed.

“What happened to me being a fairy tale prince?”

“I’m beginning to accept that maybe you’re real. Unless you’ve got servants out there somewhere who’re going to bring us some food?” 

“No, you got me there. Really - there’s nothing?”

“Well... I’ve got some eggs, and a tomato, and I think there’s some sausages in the freezer, so that might make for a half-arsed cooked breakfast.”

“Would these be sausages be made of pork?” he asked, and Jamie turned hir head, then nodded slowly.

“They would indeed. You _are_ tricky. So... There’s probably some cafés open...” 

Josh turned the situation over in his head.

“Let’s go round to my place. We’ve always got more than enough because Alex is more organised than a 40 year old housewife. And I can introduce you to my friends!”

Jamie studied him silently, and for a moment Josh worried that sie’d decline, but after a moment a nod followed.

“OK.”

***

Matt was the only one there when they entered, but within seconds Alex came running from his bedroom, face beaming and full of mischief.

“Josh! You’re back! I was just-” 

He stopped; took in Jamie’s presence.

“Oh. Well this is new.”

His eyes were studying Jamie, keen and penetrating, and Josh was sure that his million-and-one extra senses were tingling because he looked more curious than Curious George. But Josh trusted Alex’s innate caution not to say anything he shouldn’t - especially since Jamie had instructed him in no uncertain terms not to tell anyone about what sie was... 

They’d work it out eventually, Josh figured, but he needed to talk to Alex in private first, and there was plenty of time for that later.

Smiling widely Alex walked forward to shake Jamie’s hand.

“Josh has never brought anyone home before. You must be very special. Welcome - I’m Alex, and that is Matt.”

“I’m Jamie. Nice to meet you,” Jamie replied, pleasant and opaque, shaking the proffered hands in turn and blithely ignoring the questions in the eyes studying hir. A clam would have been more forthcoming, but Josh was sure that once Jamie knew about Alex things would be easier.

“It would seem that this is a lucky weekend for couples!” Alex stated, and Josh’s eyes narrowed, looking at his friend more closely and noticing the bright smile that was as wide as his father’s.

“What he’s trying to say is that Allison finally decided to hook up with him,” Matt filled in, and Josh felt like doing a dance of thanksgiving.

“About time too! Have you told your Uncle yet - I’m sure he’ll sleep better knowing that there’s someone sensible keeping you in check.”

“Hey!” Alex said, but Josh took Jamie’s hand and steered hir towards the kitchen.

“We’re here to grab some food, then we’re heading out again. Is there any of the quiche left?”

“Josh!”

Oh life was fan-bloody-tastic. Alex had a girlfriend, and he himself had a Jamie, and Matt might get some peace and quiet to study in. 

Everyone was happy, and everything was good.

 

_Monday Morning_

All good things must come to an end - even love-ins. Jamie - with hir no-nonsense bluntness - had in no uncertain terms told Josh that whilst it had easily been the best weekend of hir life, sie now _had_ to get to work, and so he had to leave. 

When he’d asked when he could see hir again, Jamie had just smiled and said that he was there for the next three years, right, and not to worry about it.

Back home, he walked through the door to find Alex and Matt eating a late breakfast. Matt was dressed in his biggest and ugliest jumper, with a huge scarf wrapped around his neck, and Josh guessed that he’d been hit with the evil cold that was going round. 

Alex - goodness knew why - was wearing one of his most hideous T-shirts, and Josh almost shuddered. But Alex - of course - wasn’t about to let him run off and indulge in a bath.

“So...” Alex said, leaning back in his chair. “Jamie.”

“So...” Josh mimicked, leaning against the wall because he wanted to somehow stay on top of the situation. “Allison.”

Alex shook his head.

“Talk.”

There was no point in fighting, and yet Josh didn’t want to betray Jamie’s trust, and so chose his words with utmost care.

“Product of a one-night-stand. The guy had rubbish chat-up lines, but was very cute. When Jamie’s mother discovered she was pregnant, she tried to hunt the baby daddy down and discovered that he’d been run over by a car. The end.”

Alex nodded slowly.

“OK. Anything else?”

“No. Yes, actually. I want to tell Jamie about you. I haven’t so far, ‘cause I know you’re paranoid, and what with Allison on the scene I thought I’d wait until you tell her.”

There was a moment’s silence, then Alex replied. 

“I’m not.”

“Not what?”

”Telling her.”

Josh frowned. “But-”

“I’ve already explained this to Matt, but from now on there’ll be no mention what-so-ever of what I am, understood? Not even to Jamie.”

Josh stared at him, incredulous.

“And you don’t think that maybe Allison has a _right_ to know? Or that maybe it would really _help_ Jamie to know about you?”

Alex looked distinctly taken aback.

“How would knowing about me help Jamie? As far as I can tell the only thing we have in common is you.”

Josh sighed.

“Just... I’m _tired_ of lying. And I really, really don’t want to lie to Jamie. Or Allison for that matter.”

Alex had that ‘I-really-get-what-you’re-saying-but-I’m-not-going-to-change-my-mind-because-I-know-best’ look on his face. Josh _hated_ that look.

“You’re really smitten aren’t you?”

“Dammit Alex, that’s not the point and you know it! I just don’t want to lie to people who deserve the truth.”

For a moment he thought Alex might actually relent, but then he shook his head.

“Sorry, but you’re going to have to.”

Josh’s eyes narrowed.

“Because you say so.”

Alex looked back, not moving.

“Because I say so.”

For a moment they just stared at each other, and Josh could feel anger building.

“Sometimes you’re just-” he gritted his teeth and tried to stop the urge to throw something at his friend. “Is Allison aware of what a perfect jerk you can be?”

Alex nodded, still infuriatingly calm.

“Actually she is.”

“Good. I would hate for her _not to know_ what she’s getting into!”

“Josh...”

But it was pointless arguing with Alex once he’d made his mind up, no matter how much Josh might resent it. Alex held all the cards, and that was that. He slowly counted to ten.

“Fine. My Lord’s wish is my command.”

He mock-bowed, and finally he got a reaction out of Alex, as his friend’s eyes flashed angrily. But, instead of saying something cutting, Alex sighed deeply and buried his head in his hands, mumbling something that was probably an elaborate Gallifreyan curse. Then he looked up, eyes pleading.

“Josh can’t you see? _This_ is what I want to avoid! This bloody inequality that just... changes everything. Do you remember - and you ought to, it’s only two and a half years ago - when I was just Alex? Allison likes _just Alex_. Allison wants a relationship with _just Alex_. I never thought I could ever have something like this. Please don’t ruin it.”

Josh sought out Matt’s eyes, and Matt did that _‘What can we do?’_ gesture that they were both far too good at. 

“OK,” he finally said. “But I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I always know what I’m doing,” Alex replied coolly.

“Yeah. Did you ever consider that that’s the problem?”

Not waiting for an answer he detached himself from the wall and headed towards the bathroom. He needed a bath, and then he probably ought to do a bit of reading before the afternoon’s lecture. 

A few hours later, as Josh was sitting by the table with three books and his tablet all propped up in front of him, the door burst open and a furious-looking Allison entered, her phone clasped in her hand.

Josh took one look at her, then grinned and closed the books. Never a dull moment...


	7. Chapter 7

_Monday morning, 17th of November 2025._

Allison arrived at the lecture hall nice and early. ‘Do _not_ let romance interfere with your studies’ she had told herself quite firmly before starting the course, and, although she had acquired a boyfriend despite her best intentions, she was still going to try her hardest to balance the two.

She found Chelsea waiting for her - surrounded by several of the other girls in their class - all of them eager to hear more details about her sudden romance. And once their curiosity was satisfied the talk naturally segued into discussing outfits for the Christmas parties.

They coolly ignored the sudden outbursts of laughter from the boys, all studying something on Mike’s phone, and Allison hoped it wasn’t a snapshot of herself and Alex - especially since he hadn’t shown up yet...

He still hadn’t arrived when Professor Trinder appeared, and she figured that he probably wasn’t going to come. Maybe he didn’t want to distract her? Then she got caught up in the lesson and forgot about Alex, not worrying about his non-show until it was time to pack up - when Mike came sauntering up, looking so smug that she knew something was up.

“So- Alexander the Great couldn’t face the heat, could he?” Mike declared, and Allison frowned, puzzled.

“Huh?”

“You’ve not seen this?”

Mike - with entirely too much schadenfreude in his eyes - held forward his phone, which displayed a page from PotterAtUni, a rather obnoxious blog which chronicled life in Cambridge with a Harry Potter-esque slant. Allison had never been much of a JK Rowling fan, and generally didn’t pay much attention.

Until now.

__

  
**Draco Malfoy spotted!**  


  
Comedy Night at the Student Union was enlivened last Friday thanks to everyone’s favourite bitchy blonde wizard. Although he had attempted to dress up like a regular student, the evening’s entertainer spotted him in an instant, and in his usual, amusing manner (I’m sure you’re familiar with his style) proceeded to question the safety of Master Malfoy’s charming companion. The young wizard took umbrage at this imposition and threw a hissy fit, declaring that everyone knew that J.K. Rowling had totally redeemed him, and just because his dad was a Deatheater shouldn’t make anyone jump to conclusions. After this dressing down he flounced out, complaining about the poor quality of Muggle entertainment.

If anything else is heard from Draco, be sure that our reporters will be on the case.

***

  
When Allison burst through the door of Alex’s flat not many minutes later she was still fuming. She wasn’t entirely sure where her ire was directed - it was probably a combination of Mike (for being an ass), the blogger (for being rude) and Alex for not showing up (and making her look like an idiot).

Josh was sitting at the table, sans Jamie and with several books in front of him. Matt was on the sofa, looking like he was full of cold, but still with a book in his lap.

They both looked up when she entered, but before she could ask them where Alex was the boy in question emerged from the kitchen with a large tray full of tea cups.

“Allie! Your timing is perfect. I’ve been experimenting with tea. Do you want a cup?”

She shook her head and held up her phone.

“Have you seen-”

As he put down the tray on the table next to Josh she noticed his T-shirt, bright green and emblazoned with a large Slytherin symbol. She stared at it, bewildered.

“... this?”

He grinned.

“The Malfoy thing? Oh yes. It’s brilliant, isn’t it? And to think I almost didn’t bring this shirt!”

Josh shot him a dark look.

“If I’d known you still had it I would have stolen it from your wardrobe and burnt it.”

Alex looked hurt.

“Hey - no dissing Slytherin!”

“It’s not the _shirt_ I have a problem with per se - it’s the shirt _on you_. Allison, can _you_ explain to him that it doesn’t suit him?”

She looked from one to the other.

“What kind of parallel world did I just walk into? Don’t you _care_ that they took the piss out of you?”

Alex’s eyebrows went up about an inch.

“Um... No? I was a jerk, they called me on it - and in quite an inventive way too.”

“But... what’s-his-face, the comedian guy...”

“Insulted me to my face. _Very_ different.”

She felt like saying that he was _weird_ , but that felt a little superfluous. Instead she folded her arms, still not placated.

“You know everyone else thinks you didn’t show up for the lecture because you were too _embarrassed_? Mike was pretty much dancing with joy.”

Clearly this had not occurred to him at all, judging from the look on his face.

“Really? Guess I’ll have to go tomorrow, wearing the shirt. Or something else suitably Draco like...” His brow furrowed.

“Don’t suppose you’ve got anything that says Ravenclaw? Where would sell something like that...”

“Wait. What? Ravenclaw?”

“Well you’re obviously a Ravenclaw.”

“Huh?”

“Matt’s a Gryffindor, and Josh-”

“ _Josh_ ,” the boy in question cut through, “refuses to put on the Sorting Hat because it’s ugly.”

Allison took a deep breath, closed her eyes and counted to ten.

“Can I just call time out?”

Josh chuckled.

“Oh you’re going to have to get used to this. He tries to fit into just about any story you can think of. Usually works quite well too. Half expected his father to calls us ‘filthy mud bloods’ when we met.”

“You’ve met his father?” she asked, astonished, and her words seemed to create a sudden deafening silence. Alex froze, Matt tried to pretend that he wasn’t there and Josh lowered his eyes.

“Just the once,” Josh finally said, as the quietness was becoming oppressive.

“We... don’t talk about it,” Matt added after a moment.

She turned to Alex, who hadn’t moved at all.

“What is this? What happened?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Alex said, voice flat, and she could feel her temper rising again.

“Well _clearly_ it matters! What could _possibly_ happened that you don’t talk about it?”

He was still immovable, but anger was now apparent underneath the stony surface.

“My father was involved, what do you _think_ happened?”

“Oh. I... I didn’t think...”

Bad things, clearly. Had he broken out of prison? That was entirely likely, since Alex wouldn’t have brought his Matt and Josh along for a visit... And something had happened - something involving his friends...

A loud beep cut through the tenseness, and Alex sighed and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Damn. Lost track of the time. Um- I have to run. Apparently you can’t heckle a comedian these days without having to go talk to a counsellor. So I’m gonna have to go explain that yes, I am perfectly aware that I have issues regarding my father, and no, I do not need to talk about them.”

Allison studied him for a long moment.

“Maybe you should. Talk about it, I mean.”

He shook his head.

“No I shouldn’t. I- I’ll explain later, OK?”

He gave her a quick kiss, then got his jacket and trainers, turning around in the doorway and looking from Josh to Matt.

“You two - behave.”

“Yes Master,” Josh said drolly, saluting, and Alex shot him a furious look.

“Dammit Josh! Will you let it go!”

Josh shrugged, and Alex hesitated for a moment, then left - taking great care _not_ to slam the door.

They all looked at each other, then Matt broke the silence.

“Josh - do you _have_ to antagonise him?”

“Oh come on, it’s not me it’s _him_! If he wasn’t such a paranoid jerk-”

“But you make it _worse_!”

Allison watched, feeling like she’d walked in on a domestic, and then decided that a cup of tea was what she needed. Taking a seat at the table and grabbing a cup from the tray on the table she took a deep drink - and then nearly choked.

“Oh my god, what _is_ that?” she asked, staring at the innocent-looking brown liquid in the cup, and the other two stopped arguing.

Josh leaned forward, took the cup from her and had an experimental taste.

“Hmm. Earl Grey and Lapsang I think.”

“Early Grey and _Lapsang_? Why would anyone _do_ that?”

Josh chuckled and raised an eyebrow.

“Welcome to Alex’s World. The answer to _that_ question is always ‘Why not?’”

She turned this over in her head.

“Yeah, I can see that. Actually-” she looked from one boy to the other, and decided that this was a good opportunity for getting some info on Alex.

“Can I ask... If you were me... would you date Alex?”

It was an odd question she knew, but she was used to having her family and friends on hand for parleys about anything and everything, and she missed having a sounding board or five.

Matt and Josh’s eyes met, and then they both smiled.

“Oh yes,” Matt said.

“In a heartbeat,” Josh added. “It’s just...”

“Just what?”

The boys exchanged looks again, and then Josh carefully leaned forward on the table. Allison braced herself for whatever was to come - probably something about his father...

“Alex is... He’s the proverbial big fish in a small pond. Well more like a blue whale in a goldfish bowl. Honestly, it’s like living with a caged tiger or something - he is _so_ bored, you have no idea. But for once his uncle actually put his foot down, so he’s stuck here. Which is probably good for him, considering how he usually gets to do whatever he wants.”

Allison frowned.

“But he seems to do that anyway - he’s missed around half the lectures so far, but has got some kind of deal with our Professor...”

Josh shook his head.

“But he’s _here_. And he doesn’t want to be, which is tricky for him to come to terms with, cause he’s been spoiled rotten his whole life.”

“Well _sorta_ ,” Matt added. “He _is_ spoiled, but his mum and uncle are also _way_ strict.”

That didn’t make much sense, but then little to do with Alex did, so Allison decided on another question. Quizzing people was fun, and Josh was obviously up for dishing the dirt.

“What are they like? His mum and his uncle?”

There was a long pause, as the boys seemed unable to come up with an answer. Finally Josh had a go.

“Well his uncle is... kinda mad? It’s not really possible to explain, and I’m sure you’ll meet him sooner or later, and then you’ll see for yourself. His mum - she’s alright, really. Much more normal than anyone else. He takes after her more than he thinks. Hey - if you can get her to like you, you’ll have it made.”

Finally something useful. “And how am I supposed to do that?”

“Oh it’s very simple - just explain that you’re aware that you’ll never be good enough for her miracle of a son, and you’ll be off to a flying start.”

She smiled her best ‘bitch please’ smile.

“Very funny.”

Matt raised an eyebrow.

“Still true.”

She stared at him in silence for a second, then slowly shook her head.

“OK I’m screwed. She will _hate_ me.”

“That’s _her_ problem, not yours,” Josh pointed out. “You keep giving him hell!”

“Very well,” she said, a slow smile spreading across her face, because this situation was too familiar for words. “And what exactly were you fighting over before I got here?”

Matt laughed.

“Oh she’s got your number Josh!”

“Actually, can I ask something else?” she cut through, a little nervously. “This whole thing about his father...”

“Ah,” Josh replied, glancing at his watch and then gathering up his books and other paraphernalia.

“Can’t talk about that, sorry.”

“But-”

“That’s essentially what we were arguing about, K? This whole bloody secrecy thing he has going on. It pisses me off like you wouldn’t believe. And I just realised that I’m going to be late for my lecture if I don’t run now.”

A few seconds later the door closed behind him, and Allison found herself alone with Matt.

He looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

“So, how do you like the mad house?”

She shrugged, smiling.

“I come from a large family, so to be honest this feels perfectly normal.”

Matt opened his mouth, and then a odd look flickered across his face and he swiftly grabbed a tissue and sneezed. After having very carefully wiped his nose, and tossing the tissue in the bin next to sofa, he finally spoke.

“Listen Allison, the thing about Alex is that... well his family - in many ways - really is as far from normal as you can get. When we met his Dad...” he paused, thoughtful, “it suddenly became obvious why he never talked about him, or... anything to do with that part of his life. I’m not saying that Josh doesn’t have a point, but some secrets are secrets for a reason.”

“Um... thank you?” she replied, and Matt shrugged.

“Alex is my best friend, and I want him - and you, obviously - to be happy. And that’ll probably involve more compromises than in most relationships, because of who he is. But he’s worth it. Wanna watch something?”

“Sure,” she said and Matt moved over and made some room for her as he turned the TV on.

“How did you get to be so insightful, anyway?” she asked, and he smiled.

“Guess I’m the straight guy in this whole crazy thing. As normal as they come, me.”

Seeing the look on her face, he chuckled.

“Well comparatively.”

***

  
When Alex returned - looking relatively calm - Matt suddenly decided that he should probably be in bed. It was clearly just an excuse to escape, although he certainly looked like it might be partly true.

“You been OK?” Alex asked, and she nodded.

“Matt’s good company. And you?”

He shrugged.

“I’m always OK.”

She raised an eyebrow, and he chuckled.

“It’s true, I’m fine.”

He made his way over to the sofa and sat down next to her.

“Guess I just feel that I ought to have pointed out that I’m not... easy. I’m not sure I should inflict myself on anyone.”

She folded her arms and looked him up and down.

“You obviously don’t know me very well. Apart from the fact that I’ve told everyone about us, I don’t walk away from things. You’re stuck with me now!”

He grinned.

“Oh I _do_ like you.”

“But - I’m not just going to sit here, letting you be all mysterious. Relationships require some give and take. And I think talking is a good thing.”

“You mean about my father, right?”

She nodded, and he sighed deeply.

“You sure?”

She nodded again, and he sat still for a long moment.

“Look, my issues are... well they’re not abstract. It’s not things I’ve been _told_ , it’s things I’ve _seen_. And I don’t want to ‘come to terms’ with how I feel about that. I never want to reach a place where I can think about it without horror.”

She stared at him as the words sunk in ( _‘Some secrets are secrets for a reason...’_ ) and her brain scrambled around for some way of dealing and making sense of the things implied.

“But... isn’t he like... locked up?”

“Oh yes. But it’s a... very unusual sort of prison, since he’d get out of an ordinary one within hours, if not minutes. This one is much more secure, but sometimes... sometimes he bends the bars a little. Can’t really say much more, it’s all classified.”

“Okay...” she said faintly, half-wishing to know more, and yet wanting to change the subject as quickly as possible.

He smiled gently, as if reading her mind.

“So I have issues, but usually they’re all filed away in a box in my head labelled ‘My Issues’. And unless someone starts poking it - which means I have to bash them around until they stop - I never open it. I don’t want - or need - to talk about it, or to cry on someone’s shoulder, and ‘the love of a good woman’ will not magically make me overcome it. My father is what he is, and nothing can change that.”

She nodded, and tried a smile of her own.

“You are remarkably well-adjusted, everything considered,” she finally said, taking his hand, and he shrugged.

“I think it’s growing up amidst so much crazy - I became all laid-back in response.”

“Guess that makes sense. Anything... anything else I ought to know?”

He thought for a long moment, and she wondered what kind of secret he might see fit to share.

“I’m allergic to aspirin.”

“...right.”

He held up his hands, feigning innocence.

“You asked. Not that I’m prone to headaches or anything, but don’t ever give me aspirin. Seriously, it could kill me.”

“I will keep that in mind,” she said drolly.

“Excellent. Now have you had any lunch?”

“Not yet...”

They ended up having a lovely lunch, during which Alex expanded at length about why he liked Draco and not Harry, and she almost forgot their Big Discussion. But now and again she’d remember, and wonder exactly what his father had done, and just how traumatised Alex might be - and what impact this might have on their relationship.

 

***

  
As it turned out, having Alex as a _boy_ friend - rather than just a friend - didn’t alter anything very dramatically. Now there was just more kissing, an improvement Allison was very pleased with.

Although she did discover quite a few new things, one of them being that - the denim jacket apart - he apparently did not posses any kind of coat. Nor any jumpers, sweaters, cardigans - not even a scarf or a hat. (She made sure of this by looking through his wardrobe very carefully, a privilege that she knew automatically came with her girlfriend status.)

But when she brought it up, he just shrugged and said he was made of teflon - which made her frown, since she could still remember when her brother Toby had thought the same, and the weeks he’d had to spend in bed as a consequence of this attitude.

The coat issue actually threatened to become _A Thing_ when they began working out their outfits for the Costume Christmas Party... The theme was movies, and - very casually, if she said so herself - Allison brought up the Big Damn Movie, after she’d rejected various thing like Luke and Leia, and Draco and Hermione.

“What about Serenity? You could be Mal, and I could be... oh I don’t know... Kaylee?”

He chuckled.

“That’s an idea. Except not Mal.”

“Why not?”

“Two words: Hero coat.”

She frowned.

“Hero coat?”

“Hero coat. Don’t like them, won’t wear them. You got me into a suit for the formal dinner, but that’s as far as I’ll go.”

(And very dashing he’d looked too, even though he’d whined a great deal.)

Finally they settled on Wash and Zoe. Allison wasn’t quite sure about going as a black character, but Alex hand waved her worries away - as long as she didn’t look like a minstrel, no one was going to mind. She had a sneaking suspicion that he was so keen on the roles partly because it’d let him ‘dress up’ in a Hawaiian shirt, and partly because of the tight trousers and leather vest she’d managed to get hold of.

Although the best part came just before they left - as she was checking her hair (which Chelsea had curled for her), Alex smiled mysteriously.

“I... got you something. Think of it as an early Christmas present.”

He brought out a large, flat box, and when she opened it she found a perfect pair of Zoe boots inside.

She pulled them out, nearly speechless.

“Oh my God! Where did you find these?”

“Didn’t ‘find’ them - had them specially made.”

“But- that must have cost a fortune!”

He chuckled. “I’m loaded, in case you forgot. And it’s totally worth it for the look on your face.”

She decided not to argue, and just to pull them on. They (of course) fitted perfectly, and she felt like bouncing. Best boyfriend _ever_.

“Is Josh coming?” she asked as they finally set off, and Alex looked at Matt - who looked very dapper dressed as Bond - then shook his head.

“Dunno. He’s been trying to talk Jamie into coming with him, but has had no luck so far. Jamie’s not one for big crowds apparently, but Josh can be very tenacious...”

Josh’s tenacity had evidently paid off, they soon realised.

The two of them had opted for Breakfast at Tiffany’s as their inspiration - and whilst Josh looked exceedingly rakish in a perfectly cut suit, it was Jamie’s transformation into Holly Golightly (black dress like a glove, suddenly dark brown hair done up to perfection, long gloves) that had most of the room gazing in awe. Allison had to quell a momentary pang of pure jealousy, because she knew that she’d _never_ look that effortlessly stylish.

Even Matt and Alex seemed to have been transfixed.

“Are you thinking what I am thinking?” Matt muttered, and Alex tilted his head.

“I’m thinking that I’m going to send a picture to Jack and count the seconds until he appears.”

“Dressed or naked?” Matt asked, and Alex looked at him with mock surprise as he pulled out his phone.

“Naked of _course_! And then he’ll get an orgy organised.”

Matt laughed as Alex indeed snapped a picture with his phone - but much to Allison’s disappointment the mysterious Jack never materialised.

Not that the party wasn’t lots of fun on its own, even if it never became an actual orgy...

Hours later they were squashed into someone’s room, still talking and drinking and eating, and Allison thought that university was the best thing _ever_.

They’d lost Matt earlier on when he’d wandered off with some of his fellow medical students, but the rest of them were still together, more or less.

Josh and Jamie were squeezed into a tiny two seater sofa (cheap and cheerful IKEA model), and Allison and Alex were on the floor nearby, caught up in a discussion with some philosophy students that Alex was cheekily running rings around with bizarre theories that Allison felt sure wouldn’t make any kind of sense in the morning when they were all sober.

At one point Josh got up to see if he could locate a loo, and after a moment a stranger - dressed as a cowboy, and rather ruggedly handsome - plonked himself down next to Jamie. Allison - curious - half turned to see how Jamie would deal, since from Allison’s limited experience Josh’s new beau was almost painfully shy, and she felt a little worried.

“So tell me gorgeous, who are _you_?” the stranger began, a wide grin on his face.

Jamie studied him the way one would a cockroach.

“Touch me and I’ll break your arm.”

Allison’s mouth fell open - Jamie was about half the size of the ‘cowboy’ and looked as fragile as porcelain. Clearly this wasn’t the response the suitor had been expecting either, and he took a moment to rally.

“Whoa... Calm down girl, just sayin’ hello.”

Jamie’s blue-green eyes went even colder.

“And I’m not a girl. Please go away.”

The guy did a very long double take (whilst Allison felt thrilled to _finally_ get some kind of confirmation as to gender), and Jamie raised the most dismissive eyebrow Allison had ever seen.

Just then Josh reappeared, looking from one to the other, eyes narrowing.

“Sorry mate, but you’re in my seat.”

“Okay...” The cowboy - obviously understanding when he’d lost the battle - stood up, still looking somewhat thrown.

“You two- _right_.”

He studied Josh carefully, and Allison wondered just how drunk he was.

“You know that your boyfriend is pretty vicious, right?”

Josh did a double take of his own.

“What are you on about? Jamie is not a boy.”

The student opened his mouth, then slowly shook his head, and Allison knew how he felt.

“I... I think I’m gonna go before I say something un-PC.”

Jamie smiled a tiny, superior smile.

“You do that.”

As the cowboy lumbered his way through the crowd, Josh sat himself down again.

“Been practising some of those anti-people-skills you excel at?”

Jamie shrugged.

“Better safe than sorry.”

Josh shook his head, looking exasperated.

“Most people are nice, you’ve _got_ to stop being so antagonistic.”

Jamie shrugged. “Not interested in ‘people’.”

“You’re interested in _me_ , and I’m people!” Josh shot back, and Jamie studied him for a long moment.

“Guess that makes you the exception that proves the rule? Or maybe you’re just too gorgeous... Honestly I’m still not sure what I’m doing with you.”

Josh smiled, slowly and widely.

“Oh I think you know _exactly_ what you’re doing with me...” he said, voice so low Allison could barely catch it, leaning into Jamie and clearly forgetting that they weren’t actually alone; his hand sliding around Jamie’s waist with an unspoken intimacy that made Allison turn back to her own group rather swiftly.

But she found herself a bit preoccupied, as she emptied her bottle. Josh and Jamie seemed to have nothing in common except sex and an interest in clothes, and yet... And yet there had to be something more to it, because Josh was exceedingly determined to keep hold of Jamie, despite the latter’s extreme reticence. And considering he could get girls - and boys - to fall into his bed simply by snapping his fingers, clearly there had to be something there. Not that good sex was not a perfectly valid reason...

She’d not got further in her musings when a girl appeared in the doorway, asking if anyone knew a bloke dressed in a tux?

Allison and Alex shot each other a look and - seeing that Josh and Jamie were otherwise occupied - went off, discovering Matt passed out on a bed.

Moving him was out of the question, but after a lot of asking around they discovered that the owner of the bed was staying the night in someone else’s bed, and the room mate wasn’t bothered about a stranger, being three sheets to the wind already.

Alex, as always sensible, removed Matt’s phone, keys and money, and, after putting a bin by the bed and leaving a small light on, the two of them found themselves wondering where to go next.

Allison decided that kissing would definitely help the decision making process, swiftly forgetting where they were until a passing stranger called out ‘Get a room!’

Allison thought of Matt - passed out and gone for the night - and Josh, who’d be heading to Jamie’s any second, and looked up at Alex with a wide, mischievous smile.

“You’ve got a room!”

“I... do...” he said slowly, and she pulled him closer. She was on the happy, bold side of drunk, her body buzzing pleasantly, and she knew exactly what she wanted. How was it Zoe had phrased it? _‘I need this man to tear all my clothes off.’_ She liked being Zoe very much at that moment - she hadn’t had sex in forever (or at least that’s what it felt like) and after seeing Josh and Jamie...

“Well?” she asked, arching an eyebrow and slipping a hand under his shirt, caressing his back.

But to her great puzzlement Alex didn’t grin wickedly and drag her off, as she had hoped and expected. Instead he frowned, tilting his head.

“Are you sure? You don’t think it would be... rushing things?”

She stared at him, shocked, as illumination suddenly hit.

_‘Oh my god he’s a virgin!’_

It was a possibility that she’d never even considered. He was Alex, and he was good at _everything_ , it stood to reason that he’d be... _experienced_.

Looking at him, she didn’t quite know what to say.

“I... Uh... If you’d rather wait-”

“I didn’t say no,” he said carefully, and she could almost see the wheels turning in his head. Sometimes he was _infuriating_ \- what kind of person deliberately weighed up whether to sleep with someone, as if trying to work out whether to have dessert or not, looking like they were counting calories in their head?

“So?” she asked, impatiently and not entirely happily, and then he laughed in that way that made her feel as if her stomach was falling through the floor.

“Your wish is my command, my lady.”

“Took you long enough,” she muttered and grabbed his hand. Thank goodness his flat wasn’t far away.

***

  
“I could get used to this.”

At his words Allison tilted her head and looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. Her head was resting on his chest, where she’d been drifting off to sleep, lulled by the soft beating of his heart.

“This whole girlfriend thing,” he clarified, “I could get used to it.”

She tried to hide a smile, and wasn’t quite sure if she succeeded - she felt tired and sated and happy, the night’s rather fabulous conclusion having worn her out quite thoroughly. Well, fabulous and a bit odd, because it was Alex.

She had felt not entirely unlike a new toy, eagerly taken out of its box and explored for the first time... But of course Alex was the type to have read every manual possible before diving in, and added to that he was apparently not familiar with concepts such as embarrassment or doing-things-by-halves.

(She wasn’t sure what kind of manuals he’d been consulting, but they’d certainly been thorough and well written, with plenty of diagrams... This line of thought had led to an unshakeable image of Alex gravely studying internet porn, note pad in hand, and she’d collapsed into giggles. All in all it was good that his ego was as big as it was, because the sudden laughter hadn’t put him off in the least.)

Stroking his chest now, smiling at the memory, her hand hit upon his pendant, and the smile faded.

“You know I could swear you weren’t wearing that earlier on.”

He shrugged.

“Well I can promise you it was there. It’s not very exciting though compared to other things...”

Ignoring the hints in his words, she turned it over in her hand.

“What’s inside?”

There was a pause before he replied.

“Secrets.”

“Really?” she asked, curious, and tried to prise it open.

“Oh you’re fun to mess with. Here let me- it’s old and gets stuck.”

With a little pop it opened, and showed two tiny photographs, one on each side.

“My grandparents,” he explained, “the Lord and Lady Cole.”

She looked at them for a moment, then turned her head to look at him again, and saw what he was smiling.

“Oh yes, you’re sleeping with the aristocracy.”

She didn’t quite know what to say, and he elaborated.

“Everyone always focusses on my Dad and forget Mum, which is very silly of them. I’m actually second in line to the title, which makes me want to run out and get my Cousin Geoffrey married so he can sire some offspring asap.”

”So - you don’t want to be a Lord?”

His eyes twinkled, and he pulled her closer, softly stroking her back.

“Nope. I’m as much of a Lord as I’ll ever be, and that suits me fine. And actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if Aunt Emily has somehow barred me from succession... Ought to look in to that. Tomorrow. Right now I think sleep is what I need.”

She nodded and closed her eyes, contemplating what a lovely pillow his shoulder made.

Best boyfriend _ever._

(And if she tried really hard maybe she could manage not to think about the fact that in two day’s time the holidays would start and they’d go visit his mum... Because that was a whole new level of daunting.)


	8. Chapter 8

“Alex... does my bum look big in this?”

Allison surveyed herself critically in the mirror, before finally turning to her boyfriend, who was looking at her like she was from another planet.

“Alex?”

“Sorry. Just... I didn’t know women actually _said_ that.”

She glared.

“Just please answer the question!”

Sighing he got up, walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her from behind. Looking over her shoulder at the two of them reflected in the mirror he caught her eyes.

”Allie - my mother won’t care what you wear, trust me.”

She tried smiling in reply, as if his insightful assurances had calmed her nerves. Except this time he was just... clueless. And even the playful, intimate kiss he was planting on her neck only served to remind her of the reason for her nerves. Not only was she his first girlfriend (reason enough in itself to be nervous), she was now also The Evil Temptress who had ensnared, seduced and deflowered Lucy Saxon’s only son... And it mattered not a jot that she could hear her father’s voice in her head, telling her to stop using and falling prey to such outdated and gendered terms and cultural clichés - she was pretty certain that this was exactly how she’d be perceived no matter what.

Not that she was regretting managing to get him into bed, she just... wished that she could somehow mange to keep it secret from his mother, just for now. Why oh why did things have to be so complicated?

“Anyway,” he added, “I figure you only have time to change your outfit twice more before we have to get to the station, so please make up your mind.”

She didn’t respond, silently studying the effect of the nicely cut top and conservative skirt, and decided it’d have to do. She hadn’t realised that it was getting so late...

“Alex,” she said, deciding to get it over with, “would you mind getting your Christmas present early?”

His eyes in the mirror lit up.

“Not at all!”

“Good. There’s... a reason, you see.” She smiled mysteriously, wriggled out of his arms, and went to fetch the big, festive parcel from Matt’s room where she’d been allowed to hide it, and handed it over with a flourish.

 _‘Don’t hate it’_ , she prayed silently.

Within moments he’d torn off the paper and was staring at the gift with surprise writ large on his face.

“It’s a duffle coat,” he said, and Allison felt the need to explain herself.

“Well you only ever wear that denim jacket thing, which is about as warm as tissue paper. You’re only human Alex, you’ll catch your death walking around without a coat. And I prefer my boyfriend to be alive - a funny quirk I know, but that’s me.”

He turned to her, the corners of his mouth curling up.

“Oh don’t worry. I _love_ it!”

In an instant he’d put it on, and now it was his turn to study himself in the mirror, posing happily.

“Yup, absolutely perfect. Thank you!”

The thanks were followed by a kiss, and by the delight in his eyes she could tell that he really _was_ pleased, and breathed an internal sigh of relief.

What she had been very careful not to mention was her increasing dislike (now bordering on actual hatred) of the denim jacket, and the fact that she’d been actively looking out for a replacement - something which had been made much tricker with the discovery of his aversion to ‘hero coats’, causing her to discard 90% of her initial ideas. But here he was, all warm and cosy and student-y looking, and maybe at some later date she could quietly spirit away the old jacket and destroy it.

Also - and she added this to herself very quietly - surely his mother would appreciate him wearing something _warm_?

***

The antique table was laid out with priceless china and delicious food, a grandfather clock ticked away quietly in a corner and the walls were hung with beautiful paintings, highlighted by the pale winter sun which fell through the windows. The whole scene had an unshakeable air of unreality, like something out of a period drama, and Allison almost missed the question directed at her as she tried to fit her head around the situation.

“Milk, sugar?”

“Um, just milk, thank you.”

Moments later Lucy Saxon handed her a cup of undoubtedly perfect tea, and Allison was beginning to worry that she was stuck in a dream. Because this couldn’t be real. Alex’s mother was clearly going out of her way to be as friendly and welcoming as possible, not showing the slightest hint of resentment or disapproval, and after a while - despite the weirdness - the butterflies in Allison’s stomach slowly died down enough for her to begin eating some lunch.

Conversation was flowing well, with talk about university and friends making easy topics, and when Alex leaned towards her saying, “ _Told_ you everything would be fine!” she was feeling relaxed enough to playfully slap his arm.

She still cast his mother a swift look, and caught a half-smile which immediately vanished when a loud sound - as if someone was throwing open the front door with more than necessary force - reverberated through the house.

“Lucy?” a man’s voice rang out, and Lucy closed her eyes, sighing deeply.

A second later the door to the sitting room burst open, and in two steps a stranger - long coat billowing behind him - was in the middle of the room, already talking.

“Lucy! Do you know where-”

He stopped, took in the scene, eyes fastening on Alex.

“Oh. You’re here.”

Alex smiled thinly, eyes guarded.

“Hello Uncle.”

Allison’s eyes widened. _This_ was Alex’s uncle? Thanks to one of Alex’s peculiarities she’d never seen a picture of him (“Why do I need pictures? I know what my family looks like!”), and she’d imagined him to be in his sixties - kind, indulgent, but as stubborn as Alex, considering that he’d sent him to Cambridge as a punishment for some unknown offence.

The man in front of her, however, looked to be in his early forties, tall, slim and dressed in a rather fetching suit - oddly enough combined with converse trainers - and his hair had clearly been styled to within an inch of its life. The end result was somewhat mad, but certainly stylish (particularly with the coat thrown on top), and Alex’s lack of interest in his own appearance was suddenly given a new and rather curious background. Then she frowned - if Alex’s Uncle was this young, he couldn’t have been much more than Alex’s current age when he’d stepped into the role of co-guardian...

She didn’t get further in her line of thought however, since Alex immediately started on the introductions.

”Uncle - please meet my girlfriend, Allison. Allison - my Uncle, Doctor John Smith.”

“Girlfriend?” his uncle echoed - like this was something utterly unexpected - before instantly recovering; a sudden, bright smile lighting up his features, and Allison realised that clearly the charm - along with the gorgeous brown eyes - was a family trait.

“Allison! A pleasure to meet you!”

He took another step forward and grasped her hand. “Please just call me Doctor - one of those nicknames that ended up sticking, you know how it is, and everyone always calls me ‘Doctor’, so much so that I often forget to react to ‘John’. Alex - why haven’t you told me anything about this?”

The last sentence was said with a hint of reproach, and Alex shrugged lightly.

“Why did you never call?”

Allison looked from one to the other as his uncle opened his mouth, shut it again, and then suddenly let go of Allison’s hand holding up a single finger, before pointing it at Alex.

“I need you. Sorry. But there is a...” his eyes drifted to Allison, “...a crisis.”

“But we’re in the middle of lunch!” Alex said, at the same time as Lucy finally moved, turning to Alex’s uncle.

“No.”

“Lucy-” he countered.

“ _No_. Get Jack or one of your other little friends to help out. God knows you’ve got plenty of them, although I could never work out why.”

Alex’s uncle looked pleading.

“Jack’s already there, and I need every hand I can get, especially - especially someone that I don’t need to explain things to. Do you know how much time I lose just by having to _explain_ things? And in this case-”

“No Doctor,” she said, rising to her feet. “I know what you’re doing, and I won’t have it.”

Alex’s uncle’s eyes flickered momentarily as they faced each other. Lucy’s eyes were like flint and Alex’s uncle looked like he was fighting a battle he knew he was going to lose, but then Alex sighed and got up.

“Oh whatever, I’ll come.”

His mother turned.

“Alexander...”

He gave her a hug.

“C’mon, I’ll be _fine_. And this way you and Allie can gossip about me to your hearts’ content.”

He grinned over his shoulder, and Allison felt as if they were all talking a different language, there were that many things shimmering under the surface.

“Thank you Alex,” his uncle said, but Lucy grabbed hold of his arm, forcing him to look at her.

“Doctor - if he gets hurt-”

The Doctor’s face changed, and Allison couldn’t begin to guess at what lay behind the sudden transformation.

“I know,” he said, tonelessly. “Little hard to forget. Please try to remember that he is my whole world too.”

When Allison turned to Alex, hoping for some kind of explanation, she saw the exact same guarded look - part hurt, part angry - on his face too. Some serious issues there, clearly. She remembered him talking about his father issues, but he’d never mentioned his uncle...

But then he smiled, extracted a promise from his uncle to be back in time for dinner - 7pm - and then turned to Allison.

“Sorry to run out like this, I’ll definitely make him pay for it. Although like I said - this way you and mum can look at baby photos or whatever it is that women do in situations like this. I’m told that men just get in the way.”

He gave her a swift kiss, and then they were gone, with a final swirl of the Doctor’s long brown coat before the door closed behind them. Lucy was looking at the empty space they’d left, arms folded, her tension so visible that Allison suddenly felt genuinely unsettled.

“Alex isn’t going to be in, like, real danger, is he?”

Lucy turned her head, thinly disguised anger on her face.

“It’s the Doctor. It’s always real, and it’s always dangerous.”

Then her expression softened.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t worry you. But I must admit that this wasn’t how I’d hoped your introduction to the family would happen.”

And Allison, with surprise, realised that maybe Lucy had been worried about meeting _her_... Thankfully Lucy continued speaking, giving Allison a few moments in which to absorb this insight.

“I’m guessing that Alex hasn’t told you much about... this side of his life?”

“Not really,” Allison replied, and Lucy smiled, the tension disappearing as if by magic.

“Sit down, have another cup of tea. We probably need to talk.”

***

The afternoon was long, but very informative - and not just in the baby picture sense. Allison discovered that Alex’s uncle worked with UNIT as some kind of freelance agent, ‘Jack’ worked for Torchwood, and the ‘crisis’ was probably some kind of alien invasion. Allison found this almost impossible to believe, and yet Lucy was clearly not joking.

“I don’t suppose you’ve ever had a desire to become a heroic fighter for Earth?” Lucy asked, and Allison had to shake her head.

“Not really... We had some UNIT guy come visit our school a few years back, but although I like uniforms, I’d rather not wear one myself. If I _had_ to work for them I’d much prefer to deal with the technology.”

Lucy smiled.

“I can see why Alex likes you.”

There didn’t really seem to be any kind of correct response to this, so Allison mumbled into her tea and tried not to blush too much. Overt hostility she’d been prepared for, but not this.

She also got a tour of the house and garden, both of which were extraordinarily beautiful. The house was about the same size as her parents, except they’d brought up five children and it showed. Alex’s home on the other hand was furnished with exquisite taste, and Allison could suddenly see where his tidy streak came from - growing up in a house like this couldn’t help rubbing off.

The garden was of course pretty bare since it was December, but Allison could still tell just how much work went into it. She hoped she could bring her own mother here some time, although she’d probably be green with envy.

At one point she asked if they shouldn’t turn on the news, to see what was happening, and Lucy laughed.

“ _Trust_ me, whatever they say will be as far from the truth as possible. If anything happens the Doctor will call. Or UNIT. But it’s not likely. The Doctor is pretty destructive.”

There was a strange tone to her voice that Allison couldn’t work out, but she had a feeling that asking wouldn’t get any answers, and Lucy’s words had once more reminded her that Alex and his uncle had gone out _to fight aliens_ , and - although everyone knew aliens were real - she still had to fight the impulse to pinch herself to check that she was awake. How on Earth did Lucy stay so serene?

***

  


True to his word, Alex returned five minutes before dinner was served.

Lucy had with infinite calm (Alex really was _a lot_ like her) made something French and very complicated, and Allison had helped out by laying the table. There was more cutlery than she was entirely comfortable with, but she firmly decided not to stress out over something that stupid, especially since the situation was somewhere between deeply surreal and worryingly storybook... The men had gone out on adventures and the women were at home cooking. And somewhere underneath it all there were sharp stabs of fear that she tried her best ignore. Surely he’d be OK?

As it turned out, he wasn’t just OK, he was bordering on giddy. He walked through the door, followed by his uncle and another man that Allison recognised from Josh’s photos as Jack, spread out his arms, and announced:

“And Once Again, the Day is Saved by The PowerPuff Girls!”

He grinned, then turned to the other two.

“I’m Buttercup by the way!”

“ _I’m_ Buttercup!” Jack replied (why had no one ever mentioned that he was American?), “just look at the hair. You’re Bubbles.”

“Does that mean I’m Blossom?” the Doctor asked, hopefully, but Alex shook his head.

“Blossom has _red_ hair!”

“No need to rub it in,” his uncle shot back, sounding like a petulant child, as Jack took in the room, noticing Allison. Immediately a bright and vivid smile appeared on his face, and he walked forward, hand outstretched.

“Hel _lo_ \- you must be Allison. Captain Jack Harkness.”

She took the offered hand, silently wondering if somehow he’d sprung from ‘Casting Agency for Things That Allison Likes’, because he was ticking virtually every box. And goodness, his eyes were blue...

“Stop it!” Alex and his uncle both chorused, but Allison just returned Jack’s smile with interest.

“Oh I don’t mind.”

His smile deepened to match hers, and she thought to herself that Josh as Jack-the-Second suddenly made a lot more sense. She’d seen Josh chat up enough people to recognise the tactic, although having never been at the receiving end she’d not considered just how effective that kind of charm offensive really was. Not that she was complaining.

A little while later they were all sitting around the dinner table, the earlier awkwardness apparently having evaporated as the talk flitted between university, friends and general catching-up.

“Alex?” Jack asked as Lucy began clearing the table.

“M-hm?”

“I noticed that your Professor seems to have had a major breakthrough in her research recently.”

By chance Allison happened to catch the anything-but-casual look he shot Alex, but Alex didn’t bat an eyelid.

“Really? Well that’s nice. Has she said anything, Allison?”

Before she could answer the Doctor cut in.

“You don’t go to your lectures?”

Alex shrugged.

“Well I go to _some_ of them...”

“We had an _agreement_ ,” his uncle said, and Allison recognised the tone very well, dreading it when it came from her own parents. Clearly the Doctor took his duties as stepfather very seriously.

“Not an ‘agreement’,” Alex countered, somewhere between angry and hurt. “You _grounded_ me. _Literally._ ”

There was a long pause as Alex and his uncle looked at each other silently, and then his uncle got up.

“Private word in the kitchen?”

Alex nodded, and Lucy sighed and declared that she was off to call her brother.

“Jack- entertain Allie will you?” Alex asked.

“With pleasure,” Jack smiled, and Allison couldn’t help smiling back. _Criminally_ gorgeous, that’s what he was.

“Great,” Alex said, happily looking from one to the other, and in the process proving that clearly jealousy was yet another thing that he was completely unfamiliar with.

As the kitchen door closed Allison looked at Jack, silently wondering what to say now, but Jack winked and grabbed two empty glasses from the buffet, handing one to Allison.

“Um, I’m not really thirsty...”

He raised an eyebrow.

“You have four siblings. Never spied on any of them?”

Staring at him speechlessly, Allison watched as he with great care placed the glass against the door, and - not quite believing herself, but curious enough to try - she followed suit.

“...well are you going to apologise?” she heard the Doctor ask.

“I have _nothing_ to apologise for!” Alex replied, and Allison could vividly picture the anger on his face.

“You _lied_ to me-”

“I didn’t _lie_!”

“You went behind my back!”

Jack winced, and Allison suddenly realised that Jack knew _exactly_ why Alex had got into trouble. Then Alex’s voice caught her attention again.

“Because it had nothing to _do_ with you! I’m _eighteen_! Stop treating me like a child!”

“You _are_ a child!”

“Not according to the laws of this country. And it was _your_ choice that I should grow up here!”

“That’s... completely beside the point!” the Doctor replied, heatedly. “I _trusted_ you and you used that trust to-”

“To do something you ‘disapprove’ of,” Alex cut in. “And yet it was something I am _absolutely_ within my rights to do. Your punishment is totally out of proportion to my ‘offence’ - Uncle will you just stop being so... _absolutist_ for a minute. God, you gave me, like, the best present _ever_ and now I can’t use it - can’t even _get_ to it... Just please, _please_ can I have it back?”

“No.”

“But I _promise_ I won’t... _anything_. I’ll stay in Cambridge, honest. I’ve got Allison now, and I’ve even worked out a plan - stuff to keep me occupied for the next few years. It’s just... I can’t live locked up like this. I thought you’d understand. I mean you were in cage once, remember? I’ll stay in my cage, I _swear_ , just open the door...”

A beat, then Alex’s uncle replied, his voice having lost all warmth.

“I’m not sure that’s a parallel you should bring up.”

Another beat, then there was a stifled chuckle.

“I didn’t- I didn’t mean the _actual_ cage! I was thinking of the time you were in exile!”

“Ah. Well. That’s different,” the Doctor replied, and then, when Alex clearly couldn’t stop chuckling, adding, “It wasn’t funny!”

“But... you looked like _Dobby_!”

“Alex! Do I need to remind you that it was an _extremely_ painful experience?”

“Sorry...” Alex cleared his throat. “And actually, just hang on...”

Suddenly there were footsteps and Allison, panicking, whipped her glass away and took a step backwards. Jack on the other hand was apparently not at all bothered about getting caught, and barely lowered the glass. Then the door opened and Alex shot Allison a brief look before fastening on Jack.

“A little privacy wouldn’t go amiss you know!”

Jack pulled a face.

“Well I thought that since I was the one who got you into this mess in the first place...”

‘Ah’, Allison thought, ‘so that’s why!’

Alex slowly shook his head, a smile creeping into the corner of his mouth.

“I could have said ‘No’, but I didn’t. Instead I said _’Yes_ Jack’ and _‘Thank you_ Jack’ and ‘Jack, you’re a bloody _genius_!’ _My_ choice, and so _I’m_ dealing with the consequences, OK?”

Jack sighed and nodded, even as Allison found herself looking from one to the other. _Surely_ Alex couldn’t be suggesting what it sounded like?

“You know all this responsibility is no good for you, right?” Jack remarked, and Alex rolled his eyes.

“Don’t make me do the whole Spiderman speech.”

Jack tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “You’re not allowed to do the Spiderman speech unless you can _actually_ shoot webs from your wrists.”

Alex held up his arm, studying it.

“You know, that could be a very interesting project. I wonder...”

“Alex!” his uncle called out, and Alex sighed.

“Fine. See you in a little while....”

His uncle stepped forwards, calculating eyes studying Jack.

“Well _I_ would be more than happy to have Jack take responsibility for his part.”

Alex pivoted, staring down the Doctor with sudden indignation.

“Don’t you _dare_! You still have more than a hundred years’ worth of apologising to do before you get to tell him _anything_!”

Allison blinked, feeling even more puzzled than before - especially since the Doctor actually looked stricken - and Alex turned to her, dragging a tired hand through his hair.

“This is why I never ever talk about these things... everything’s _way_ too complicated and then _this_ happens. Hopefully this won’t take too long, and then I’ll _never_ talk about it again. And Jack - this time don’t try to corrupt my girlfriend.”

“You’re no fun!” Jack complained.

“The ‘girlfriend’ is standing right here!” Allison said, then turned and walked into the sitting room. Good _grief_ the drama - and she’d thought her own family was mad...

Jack followed, sitting himself down in the sofa opposite the one she’d chosen.

“You OK?”

“Sure,” she said, studying him, trying to make all the different pieces of information she had fit together. Fun, charming, flirted with anything that moved - and yet...

“So do you make a habit of spying on people?”

He leaned further back in the sofa, smiling the kind of glib smile that was usually seen on celebrities.

“I’m Torchwood. Knowing people’s secrets is my job. Especially if I’m part of them.”

“That’s kinda creepy, you know.”

His face fell, and she thought to herself that clearly the stories she’d heard of Torchwood hadn’t come from nowhere.

“Oh. I was aiming for mysterious Man of Mystery.”

“Well you failed.”

“You’re very argumentative,” he countered, and then broke out the smile again: “I can see why Alex likes you.”

“People keep saying that,” she said, “I hope it’s a compliment.”

“Oh absolutely!” he answered. “As I’m sure you’ve noticed Alex is... not average.”

“Actually about that-” she said, nervously, telling herself to grasp the opportunity now she had it. “Can I... ask something? I could ask Alex, I know, and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, but...”

“Go ahead,” Jack said gently, and Allison tried to calm the butterflies in her stomach which were playing up again.

“I’ve just been thinking - about Alex. No, not like _that_. Well like that _too_ , but...” Goodness, this was terrible. How did he make everything she said seem like a double-entendre? Deep breath. Focus Allison.

“The thing is... Like you said, he’s not average - he’s _so_ much smarter than everyone else, but at the same time he... He seems to work out how people interact logically rather than instinctively, if that makes sense? It’s very subtle, but I’ve got a brother who’s got Aspergers and Alex reminds me of him in some ways - not that I _mind_ , I just wondered if... if it was something like that?”

Jack nodded slowly, something like admiration in his eyes. (Which was good, she had been worried about offending him. But something - the scientist in her probably - had a need to find out the truth.)

“Oh you are _good_. If you ever need a job, come to me first OK? But about your question... you’re not wrong. I...” he hesitated, “I suppose you could say it’s a family condition. Very rare these days, and in some cases... well you’ve heard about his father.”

“Right,” she said slowly, and his eyebrows shot up. “Don’t worry, Alex is fine. He’s just different. And,” the winsome smile made a reappearance, “I’m sure you wouldn’t want him any other way.”

She was just about to answer when Lucy returned, and for a second she could swear that Jack flinched. Although that was ridiculous... Maybe it was just that he wasn’t flirting with Lucy at all, something she’d noticed earlier on. Before she could let her mind work out why this might be, the door to the kitchen opened and Alex and his uncle entered.

“Well?” Lucy asked pleasantly, and Alex shrugged.

“We reached a compromise. Kinda. He gave me his little finger, but no more. Oh!”

He suddenly smiled.

“I never showed you what Allison got me for Christmas! You’re going to love this!”

And just as Allison had hoped, Lucy did like the duffle coat very much, although it was a rather moot point now...

The rest of the evening was spent watching TV, with Alex, his uncle and Jack making bets as to what news cover story would be put out for the day’s events. Jack won, and Alex accused him of cheating, to which Jack just smiled and cryptically said: ‘I know how Mr Jones thinks!’.

***

  
When she was finally in her (queen sized!) bed in a lovely guest room, Allison let her thoughts wander back over the day. Her fears over meeting Lucy now seemed a distant memory, the day’s revelations still not having sunk in.

Alex’s family were genuine, seasoned alien-fighters - and Alex helped (in what capacity she didn’t know, but something serious enough for his mother to worry). And they all had about a million issues hanging around under the surface, reminding her of the time when her auntie and uncle were getting divorced, and every time she went to play with her cousins the atmosphere could be cut with a knife... Except Alex’s family could apparently switch their issues off and on as they wanted.

She was beginning to appreciate what his friends meant by calling him ‘normal, in comparison.’ And also why he never talked about his ‘issues’...

At that point the door gently opened, and the boy in question appeared, wearing a T-shirt and pyjama bottoms, his short blonde hair outlined like a halo around his head thanks to the light in the hallway. Silently he insinuated himself into the bed.

“You planning on sleeping here?” she asked, and he blinked at her in the half-darkness.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, but... Your mum made up separate beds...”

“Well I much prefer being here! Long day,” he added, burrowing into her shoulder. “Long, long, long _boring_ day...”

“Boring?” she asked, perplexed.

“ _Very_ boring. Despite my mother’s fretting, in these cases my job is invariably to push buttons and pull levers and calculate time vectors and inverse power fields whilst Uncle runs around being manic and shouting at idiot aliens who’re usually all ‘Mwahahahaha puny Earthlings’ - if you’ve seen one you’ve seen them all, trust me. And then sometimes they’re smart and run away - which is what they did today, thank the stars - but other times they’re stupid and Uncle has to blow them up and then he angsts about it for _ages_ afterwards... Unless someone else - like Torchwood - blows them up instead and then he gets very cross and can pretend that he’d have found some magical solution if only he’d had more time... Bloody heroism, it never does anyone any favours.”

He sighed and looked up at her.

“Sorry, told you I’d not talk about it, didn’t I? I just hoped today would be a _nice day_. Should have known better - my Uncle has the worst timing _ever_.”

“No it’s... it’s fine. Honestly. If you need to talk, just talk.”

She was trying to get her head wrapped around the idea of fighting aliens as something ‘boring’, as well as a sudden understanding of how his uncle’s job had clearly managed to impact him very negatively. No wonder he had such an aversion to ‘hero coats’ - they obviously hit too close to home. And then she was once more faced with the fact that Alex’s father might be insane, but his uncle was a honest-to-god hero, and almost missed his continued monologue.

“Thank you... It’s just that I get so _tired_ of all the drama. Never been the cause of it myself until recently - quite the opposite, to be honest. Mr Peace and Quiet, me. Even when I was a baby - I’d cry whenever they started arguing to distract them. And they wonder how I ended up so spoiled - I had them all dancing to my tune before I was six months old. Always caught in the middle, always the one to calm the waters... Do you have any idea what it’s like to love a whole bunch of people who all hate each others guts, and would have no qualms about killing each other?”

He paused. “I’m not being melodramatic, they really would kill each other. Well except for Uncle and Jack. Mostly.”

Allison didn’t have a clue what to say. It was like a dam had broken and he just couldn’t stop talking. One part of her felt that surely he was exaggerating, but then she remembered the sudden, fierce tension that had come out of nowhere and had so puzzled her... She wondered what lay behind it all - _why_ did they all hate each other - but felt that this was probably not the time to ask, especially since he wasn’t waiting for questions.

“Never rocked the boat before, and considering how it’s turned out, I’m thinking that I won’t do it again. Being the cause of arguments sucks - much easier to just flat-out lie...”

”You do that a lot?” she asked, and he chuckled.

“Oh Jack and I... My Uncle would have a quadruple heart attack if he knew just _half_...”

“So...” she said slowly, remembering the oddly... _intimate_ conversation in the kitchen doorway. “You and him... You’re...”

She wasn’t quiet sure how to finish, and he wasn’t catching her drift, looking at her with puzzled eyes that looked black in the darkness of the room.

“We’re what?”

“You know... I wondered why you seemed so... _close_...”

This would certainly explain the odd combination of experience and inexperience, she thought, as she tried to work out exactly how she felt about this new revelation, when Alex finally understood what she was saying, eyes widening to comical size as he raised himself up on his elbow.

“You think Jack and I- Oh my _God_ no! He’s like my _brother_. Plus I don’t swing that way. And the age difference is...”

He stared at her, caught between laughter and incredulity, and she squirmed uncomfortably, wondering when she’d learn to keep her thoughts to herself.

“Well you come across as... very close.”

”We are,” he said simply, lying down again and pulling her into his arms. “Jack is... I can’t begin to explain what he is to me. But I’m not attracted to him, _trust_ me. Not to mention that he has a boyfriend already.”

“Okay,” she said, feeling rather weirded out, and yet relieved. “Nice to know I’ve not got competition, I guess.”

He kissed her hair, chuckling.

“Definitely not. Never had anyone like you before. Never thought I needed it. So thank you again for... for just being you and somehow coping with me. I half-expected you to run away screaming to be honest, once my Uncle showed up. Or possibly run away with him. Or Jack.”

“They’re cute, but a bit too old for me,” she sniffed, and he chuckled again.

“You’re a wise woman, Allie.”

“I know.”

“I hope-” he began, and then stopped.

“What?”

“Just... I’ll explain later.”

“Okay,” she yawned, “I think I need to sleep now anyway.”

“Goodnight,” he whispered, and she drifted off to sleep, wondering how on earth to explain all of this to her own family.


	9. Chapter 9

_A few days before Christmas 2025._

Allison’s mother came to pick them up from the train station, and managed to flummox Alex within moments of meeting them. Allison wasn’t sure whether to be embarrassed or proud.

“Oh look at you!” her mother exclaimed, holding Alex out at arm’s length after giving him a thorough hug. “All tall and handsome, just like your father - the live chats didn’t do you justice at all!”

Tilting her head, her eyes narrowed.

“Yes, remarkably like your father - it’s almost uncanny. Well apart from the hair.”

Alex didn't move a muscle, but Allison could still sense the tenseness.

“Also I’m not evil,” he said lightly, and her mother waved her hand dismissively.

“Oh all politicians are evil. Your father at least had the grace to be handsome and charming. I voted for him then, and I’d vote for him again. The world’s going to pot anyway, at least with him around Prime Minister’s Question Time was enjoyable to watch.”

Slowly a wide smile spread across Alex’s face.

“Allie? I think I love your mum.”

Her mother laughed.

“And I got you to smile! Marvellous. Now, let’s get home and have a nice cup of tea, it’s freezing! Let’s hope it doesn’t snow...”

“Don’t worry,” Alex said as he picked up their bags, “there will be no snow until Christmas, I guarantee it!”

“Allison - he’s a treasure! This way - I parked down a side road where I didn’t have to pay...”

It was inevitable, Allison supposed, but she couldn’t stop herself from making comparisons. Not that their families were complete opposites, but Lucy’s quietly understated elegance was a million miles from her own mother’s sensible clothing (especially the bright green fleece and the well worn trainers), as well as the bobbed hair which spoke of a hairstyle chosen more for ease than for looks. Not that she could imagine her mother with any other hair cut...

When they reached the house Allison tried to see her home through Alex’s eyes - the tall, Victorian end terrace, the back door leading straight into the cosily cluttered kitchen where a pot of tea was brewing and a freshly-made cake was cooling.

If he didn’t love it, she’d probably have to break up with him.

“Allison,” her mother said, throwing her out of her thoughts, “why don’t you take your things upstairs? I’ve put Alex in Ella’s old room, so you’re only a door away from each other.”

“OK,” she answered, figuring she could do the tour of the house at the same time. Taking their bags up to the second floor, she casually opened the door to her own bedroom with her elbow - then stared in horror at the sight that greeted her before dropping one of the bags so quickly it almost landed on Alex’s foot as she slammed the door shut again.

Alex was looking at her in confusion, but she ignored him and yelled _“Mum!”_ at the top of her voice.

“What is it?” her mother called back up the stairs, and Allison had to fight not to swear.

“My room! You just... _left_ it...”

“I’m not your housekeeper dear,” her mother breezed in her best Mrs Hudson imitation, and Allison closed her eyes in frustration.

“That was _never_ funny!” she said angrily, but her mother had obviously disappeared from hearing distance, and Alex - hopelessly curious as always - was now gently shifting her away from where she was trying block the door, so he could look inside.

Realising that the battle was lost, she let him open the door and then winced as his eyes grew.

“Wow. That’s... I thought you were tidy like me,” he said, looking around, and she tried her best to smile.

“I’ve been tying _so hard_ to be organised these past few months... It was like a new start?”

He nodded, before gingerly taking a step inside and stopping as there wasn’t really any more floor space on which to stand.

“I think I’m impressed. This shows a commitment to mess that I’ve barely seen bettered...” He chuckled. “I should take a picture, just to show Ianto - he’d have a heart attack.”

“Who’s Ianto?” she asked weakly, and he turned to her.

“Jack’s other half. Well, they’re not actually married or anything, but they’ve been together since before I was born. Ianto keeps Jack in check... And tidies up after him. As I’m sure you can appreciate, this is a full time job.”

Although grateful for the diversion, Allison still felt pretty mortified. She’d been doing _so well_...

(Alex’s bedroom had been as tidy as the one in Cambridge. Old toys neatly lined up on shelves, a choice assortment of books above the desk, a few posters, a wardrobe... “So, where do you keep all your stuff?” she’d asked, half-joking, and he’d shot her an inscrutable look and replied: “Elsewhere.”

When she had lifted a droll eyebrow at him, unamused, he’d abruptly lowered his eyes, seemingly speaking more to himself than to her, voice quiet, but suddenly brimming with emotions. “But it is. I was _leaving_ , so I moved stuff. I was going to be _free_...”

She’d not know what to say, but then he’d taken a deep breath before smiling wryly.

“And that’s enough self-pity for one day. Come along and choose a guest room...” After that of course there had been the tea party interrupted by his alien-fighting uncle and she’d almost forgotten about his room. His very, very tidy room, and the ‘elsewhere’ where he kept most of his stuff...)

In her case of course, then ‘Where do you keep all your stuff?’ was entirely too obvious.

“So, Ella’s room is there on your right,” she said instead, silently wondering about mothers and... _sleeping arrangements._ And pondering if she could maybe get him to talk about what he’d wanted to do before he’d been sent to Cambridge.

But first there was the obligatory tea and cake. Remembering her nervousness at Alex’s home, Allison thought to herself that at least no alien hunters were likely to interrupt _this_ little tea party. There were only herself and Alex, her parents, and Jimmy, and Allison’s nervousness began making itself felt again - Jimmy was just so _unpredictable_. A pox on all little brothers...

Thankfully, after ascertaining that Alex wasn’t interested in rugby, Jimmy concentrated on stuffing his face with cake, so their father was leading the conversation - which of course meant that history came up after about 30 seconds.

“So,” he said, studying Alex over the top of his glasses, “Allison tells me that you are very fond of history. If you don’t mind me asking, why did you not chose it as your area of study?”

Alex shrugged.

“The courses were far too restrictive.”

Jimmy, as always failing to understand the academic mind, stared blankly, a half-eaten piece of cake paused in mid-air.

“Too... _restrictive?_ ”

Leaning forward, Alex’s features got more animated, his tea forgotten.

“History isn’t ‘a’ subject, it’s _the_ subject. It contains everything else, is the record _of_ everything else. Language, maths, science, music, art, sociology, psychology, architecture, medicine... History encompasses it _all._ ”

Allison’s father - a history teacher through and through - looked as if it was Christmas already.

“Young man...” he began warmly, before having to remove his glasses, polish them, and then examine Alex anew, “I cannot begin to explain how wonderful it is to meet someone like you. The times I have tried to impart this insight to my pupils, to my own children...”

He sighed, and Alex grinned.

“Allison, I must once again compliment you on your parentage.”

“But,” Jimmy continued, stubborn as ever, and blithely ignoring the conversation he was interrupting, “When you say ‘too restrictive’, what did you want to do? Study everything?”

“Yes,” Alex replied completely straight-faced. “But for some reason no one at Cambridge wanted a comprehensive history of the world. Their loss.”

Jimmy now had that selfsame obstinate look on his face that Mike usually had.

“Cause you could have written that in three years,” he said, around the last bit of cake, but sarcasm was wasted on Alex.

“Easily,” he replied, coolly smug, “I’m the cleverest boy in the world, didn’t you know?”

Jimmy leaned backwards, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Cleverest, is that so?”

Alex’s eyes were dancing, and Allison tried not to sigh as she saw the showing-off gene raise its head again. She shot her mother a weary look (momentarily ignoring the fact that she was cross with her) and her mother stifled a smile.

“Try me,” Alex said.

“What do you mean?”

“Ask me anything. Anything at all. Any subject.”

Jimmy stared for a moment, taking the implications on board, then his eyes narrowed.

“So, there’s this guy who knows pi to 40,000 decimal points...”

Alex lifted an eyebrow.

“Only 40,000? Well it’s a start I suppose.”

Taken aback, Jimmy clearly couldn’t believe his ears.

“You know more than that?”

A grin which was pure Saxon; unbearably smug, if it hadn’t been that it was so charming at the same time.

“I know _all of it_.”

A beat, as Jimmy stared.

“But isn’t it, like, infinite...”

”Yes it is. And I know all of it.”

At which point the conversation was interrupted by Allison’s father bursting out laughing.

“Fantastic. All the points to the Saxon team. Jimmy - give over. He’s not just clever, he’s smart too! _All of it_. He knows _all_ of it.”

He chuckled and took a sip of his tea, shoulders shaking.

“Just wait until I tell the fellas tomorrow at work. All of it. Beautiful.”

“Dad!” Jimmy protested, and their father fixed him with a fond glance.

“Yes Jimmy, it’s impossible. But you’ll _never, ever_ be able to prove him wrong. Alex - you’ve obviously inherited your father’s brains. Well played young Master Saxon, well played.”

Alex was still smiling, but strangely enough Allison had the impression that her father’s reaction had thrown him as much as it had Jimmy.

But then the talk turned to historical re-enactments, and from then it was no time at all until all the boys decided to go out into her father’s shed to look at all his uniforms and weapons.

Allison looked at her mother as the backdoor slammed, and her mother smiled back.

“Well Allie, would you like to help me clear the table?”

“I suppose,” she said. At least this time the ‘men’ hadn’t gone off to fight actual aliens, just imaginary people from the past - and she knew that if she started saying something about Traditional Gender Roles, her mother would just raise an eyebrow and ask whether she’d rather be outside in the cold, play-acting, or inside the warm kitchen.

It was no contest.

Although looking out of the kitchen window a short while later, watching as Alex and Jimmy had a mock sword fight, she couldn't help silently admiring Alex’s effortless brilliance, as he meticulously and flawlessly demonstrated various moves to Jimmy.

“He certainly is a talented young man,” Allison’s mother remarked, and Allison smiled to herself, not quite watching what she was saying.

“Oh yes - he really is good at _everything_ ,” she said, somewhat dreamily, watching as he lithely stepped out of the way of Jimmy’s assault. Moved like a dancer, and so in _control_...

Her mother’s next words, however, snapped out of her mood very effectively.

“You _are_ being careful, right?” she asked, studying Allison with that no-nonsense face that Allison dreaded above all others, and she could feel her cheeks going hot.

“Mum!” she said, mortified (she was _not_ discussing this with her mother, oh no), and then - realising that her mother was not going to let it go - swallowed and tried to find somewhere to look.

“Yes. Yes of course we are. Very, even.”

(Alex was borderline paranoid, but she really didn’t want to talk about the subject _at all_.)

Studying her for another long moment, her mother finally nodded.

“Good. I know you’re young, and in love, and that you currently have the freedom to do what you want for the first time, and I would never want to curtail that. However, your father can talk about feminism until he’s blue in the face, but it still doesn’t alter basic biology - until it’s the men who get pregnant, you’re the one who’s going to be worse off if something happens.”

“Yes mum,” she said, keeping her eyes lowered and praying that the ordeal was over now. Her mother had said her piece and surely that would be it, right?

But after another pause her mother said “Allison,” waiting until she looked up before continuing.

“Have you never wondered _why_ your father is such an ardent feminist?”

Allison looked at her blankly. It was just part of who he _was_ \- her mother might as well have asked why he wore hideous corduroy trousers. Instead her mother continued, an oddly wistful look on her face:

“I don’t suppose you really took on board what it meant to take my final university exams whilst eight months’ pregnant?”

Not really having an answer for this, Allison mutely shook her head. She’d often enough heard the stories about her parents’ graduation and all the issues with baby Amanda, because her father had insisted on bringing her along - old stories (Amanda screaming her head off during the main speech, Amanda throwing up on the Dean), polished and familiar and somehow unreal in the way stories often were. It shocked Allison to realise that her mother had then only been a few years older than she was now.

“Don’t get me wrong,” her mother continued, “I have never, not for one single moment, regretted having Amanda. Or any of you for that matter. _But._ I would undoubtedly have had more opportunities in my life without you lot. Certainly without having you so young. And your father knows this. Not that I ever blamed him, but you know what he’s like - he never stopped blaming himself. It is without question the reason he’s been pushing you girls the way he has. The way he sees it he’s making up for ruining the career I might have had.”

“Mum...” Allison said feebly, feeling that peculiar sensation of finally getting something she’d always hoped for and realising that it was very different from what she’d expected. She’d wanted her parents to treat her as a proper adult for ages, but this... She wasn’t sure this brutal honesty was what she’d wished for.

Her mother smiled, and gently cupped her face with both hands.

“You might change the world, Allie dearest. I remember you in your pushchair, when you were just a toddler, looking at the stars and asking how they got up there. And you’ve never stopped. You are brilliant, and don’t let _anyone_ \- no matter how clever or handsome - steer you away from the path you should go.”

She’d expected Alex’s mother to have a go at her, to worry if she’d hold him back. This came out of the left field, and all she could think to do was nod and say “Yes mum, I promise.”

Then she pulled herself together a bit, and added, “Well we might be like the Curies, you never know. Without the deadly radio activeness, obviously.”

At which point her mother shook her head and muttered about young love, and Allison could try to breathe again.

A few seconds later the mood was thoroughly broken by Jimmy slamming open the door, declaring:

“So, Alex says that his uncle once saved the world with a sword fight-”

To which her mother’s immediate response was, “What have I told you about bringing swords into the house!” and normality was restored.

Still; Allison kept feeling somewhat unsettled for the rest of the day, and was immensely grateful when Ella turned up shortly after dinner, family in tow.

Ella - the ultimate teenage tearaway, who had given their mother more grey hairs than the rest of them combined - had surprised most people by settling down for married bliss with a genuinely decent police officer in her early twenties, establishing herself as the ultimate domestic-goddess-stay-at-home-mum as if she’d never been out partying until the small hours of the morning, with a string of disreputable boyfriends...

Allison sometimes wondered if their father realised that her current role was as much of a rebellion as her previous one had been - she hoped not.

And then her thoughts immediately returned to her mother’s words... Thinking to herself that really mum oughtn’t to worry. Amanda had always been the Golden Child, forever spurred on by their father’s relentless encouragement, and Ella had been the opposite - both of them shaped by his vision in one way or another. Allison had - possibly instinctively - rejected this and always done what she’d wanted, turning a deaf ear to compliments and criticism alike.

She was thrown out of her musings by an insistent 3 year old, shouting that ‘Auntie Al’ needed to see how clever he was at doing somersaults, so she obediently did as she was told, as well as explaining that she was ‘Auntie _Allie’_ and that Uncle Jimmy was in a _lot_ of trouble now for teaching poor innocents the wrong names.

After this had been sorted she had to admire the baby (9 months old, it was scary how time flew), and after taking turns cuddling him (before he began to smell and he was handed back), they all ended up around the kitchen table, the biscuit tin in the middle and cups of tea all round, as the dishwasher hummed in the background. It was the very definition of ‘family’ to Allison and she eagerly soaked up the atmosphere that she had sorely missed whilst away.

Later that night, when Ella & co had left and everyone was in bed, Allison decided to copy Alex’s actions at his home and silently tiptoed to his room. (She knew where all the squeaky floorboards were thanks to Ella - she had tried to explain that she wasn’t in the least interested in sneaking around, but Ella had just lifted an eyebrow and continued her instruction. Allison still remembered it now 5 years later.)

Alex wasn’t asleep, but put his laptop away when he saw her and made room for her in the bed. His opening line wasn’t at all what she’d been expecting however:

“So... who’s the boy you were kissing?”

She stared at him, utterly thrown.

“What boy? Where? What are you talking about?”

“The boy in the picture. On your big pin board.”

His eyes unfocused, as he slowly kept talking.

“Bottom right hand side, between the one of you in a prom dress and the one of Amanda’s children.”

“You were in my room for what... seconds? And you remember _that_?”

He studied her, a quiet exasperation on his face.

“I remember _everything_. I could tell you where everything - everything that I could see, that is - is in your room.”

As she didn’t answer, he tilted his head.

“I keep saying this, but no one ever seems to take it on board: I am _really, really clever_. I can do things normal people can’t. I’m like... Like Sherlock, but better. Now, please tell me - who was he? He looked very cute, you’ve obviously always had good taste.”

For a moment she tried to just shuffle her thoughts around, but it all came back to ‘Yes he’s really clever’ and ‘Goodness he doesn’t even understand the _concept_ of jealousy...’ And he was still waiting for an answer... At which point she suddenly realised that she could try to - vaguely - put her mother’s message across.

Aiming for briefness she explained how that boy had been her first proper boyfriend (her first in almost every way, but there were limits to what she was going to share), and although she’d really _really_ liked him, she’d realised that it wasn’t possible to keep a boyfriend _and_ concentrate on her A-Levels, so she’d dumped him.

Alex listened with perfect composure, but was unable to stop a small smile forming as he replied to her unspoken statement.

“Message received and understood. And don’t worry Allie - I’ll never get in your way of achieving what you’re capable of. No...” he reached out, touched her cheek, the smile fading. “If you leave me it will be for quite, quite different reasons...”

Not having a clue what to say to that she decided to just kiss him, and that worked exceedingly well in getting him out of his weird mood.

***

The following day they went into Leicester to ‘see the sights’ (and maybe do some shopping - Allison had a long list of Christmas presents to buy still) and, because Alex insisted, went to see the castle and the Newarke Houses Museums and Galleries. Having trudged through these an infinite amount of times during her childhood, Allison wasn’t just bored out of her mind, she was also worried at how closely Alex’s enthusiasm mirrored her father’s, and had to forcibly remind herself that in most ways he was _very different_. Although he even did her father’s trick of talking to _all the guides_ and getting all kinds of extra details out of them; as the morning wore on she gritted her teeth and glumly thought that he’d been right the night before - there were a whole heap of reasons she might decide to leave...

Shopping proved more enjoyable, although when she tried to hint that various items they came across might make good presents for _her_ he just smiled mysteriously and said that her present was all sorted already.

“Can I have it early?” she asked, tugging at his duffel coat in a blunt-as-a-brick attempt to remind him that he was _wearing_ his present, but he just smiled and shook his head.

That evening her mother started one of her impromptu music gatherings, which of course gave Alex another opportunity to show off, playing anything she put in front of him flawlessly.

When the session finally wrapped up, Allison noticed her mother and Alex quietly talking in a corner, and tried to make her way into hearing distance as subtly as possibly, half-alarmed that her mother was giving Alex ‘A Talk’.

What she heard however, when she got close enough, was her mother saying, “Are you sure?”, a surprised, but genuinely pleased, smile on her face, and Alex replying, “Absolutely - I was going to ask anyway.”

Her mother tilted her head and studied him, with a look that made Allison think that Alex had quite probably done what-ever-it-took to thoroughly win her mother over.

“You really are something else, Alexander Saxon,” her mother finally said, and in response he only smiled.

***

The next day promised better things. They were going to what might be Allison's favourite place in the world - certainly the place that had cemented her future in ways she couldn’t even begin to describe. And since Alex was loaded, she figured he wouldn’t mind paying.

The National Space Centre still looked like a giant, white, futuristic beehive, and she could feel her own excitement mounting as they drove up the road towards it. If she could, she’d live here...

As Alex had never been (something she found hard to believe), she eagerly dragged him through everything on offer - the Stellarium, the Rocket Tower, every exhibit and corner she could find, although oddly though, Alex seemed almost subdued throughout - not _disinterested_ at all, but somehow withdrawn in his appreciation. Which was - if Allison was completely honest - a bit of relief.

Finally they ended up in the Planetarium, which, as always, reduced her to silent awe and wonder, as she lost herself to space and endless possibility.

When the lights finally came back on, her head still spinning with stars and beauty, he had gone completely still, looking almost lost. She took his hand.

“I know, it has that effect on me too...”

He turned to her abruptly, shaking his head and eyes flashing as he gripped her hand hard.

“No. You have no _idea_ what I’m feeling.”

Letting go, as if scared he’d hurt her, he curled up, burying his head in his hands, as she started at him in shock.

“Alex... are you OK?”

“No, I’m really not,” he said, voice muffled, and then - lifting his head - gazed up at the now idle dome above them.

“I shouldn’t have agreed to come here, sorry. It’s too well done and... it’s just an illusion. Like a picture of a glass of water in the desert. I can’t get out there - I can’t get out there at all...”

Gently putting a hand on his shoulder, she couldn’t help smiling as she answered.

“But that’s what we’re doing, isn’t it? Learning about it all so one day we _will_ be able to go out there...”

He turned his head and looked at her - just _looked_ \- for the longest time, and then smiled a smile that was at once luminous and apologetic.

“You are wonderful, and I am sorry. I knew I was over privileged, but never realised I had quite such a talent for melodrama. I thought my disposition better tempered. I promise to do better from now on.”

“You are... _so weird_ ,” she said finally, and he laughed.

“Oh yes. I believe this has been stated many times over by now. C’mon - I’ll drive us back, so you can just relax.”

This last statement, as it turned out, was possibly some kind of elaborate joke - so convoluted that the point even missed Alex himself.

When they finally got home, her mother took one look at her face as she walked through the door and her eyes narrowed.

“Allie. What’s the matter?”

“My boyfriend,”Allison said, with feeling, “drives like a _grandma_.”

Alex, closing the door behind them, opened his mouth, but she held up a hand.

“No, scratch that, he makes grandmas look like risk-taking racing drivers.”

“Cars,” Alex said in his best know-it-all-voice, “are tiny little death traps on wheels. And drivers are erratic and often half asleep or just useless at steering. I’d rather be slow, but safe, than risk getting you killed because of a business man in an Audi who needs to be in Wolverhampton in half an hour and has only had a cup of coffee since 7 o’clock this morning.”

Allison looked at her mother with quiet exasperation.

“I’ve had this _all the way home_. Help me.”

Her mother, of course, just laughed.

After tea, Allison was wondering what to do (watching TV seemed a bit dull, and she wasn’t having another music evening), when suddenly the back door burst open and there was a chorus of “Aliiiiiiiiiiiiii!”

Running into the kitchen she was immediately drowned in hugs and kisses from her four best friends.

“What are you _doing_ here?” Allison asked when the profuse greetings had subsided, “I thought you were-”

She waved a hand to indicate the four corners they’d all been scattered to, and they laughed conspiratorially.

“We were _sneaky_ and planned to come see you, because it’s been forever, Little Miss Clever,” they started explaining, but a soft chuckle cut them off.

Turning, Allison saw Alex draped in the doorway, as casually suave as James Bond (if James Bond ever wore jeans & a T-shirt) and with a smile no less self-assured.

“You’ve come to see _me_ ,” he said, looking the group over, and Allison could almost _feel_ her friends’ curiosity go through the roof.

“Oh my god, listen to him!" "Who does he think he is?”

They were rounding on him now, and most normal boys would be quaking in their boots. Alex, of course, was far from normal, and Allison knew that rather than being intimidated, he was enjoying himself far too much.

“I think..." he said slowly, "That I’m a genuine gentleman,” and taking the hand of the nearest girl, he kissed the back of it with utmost grace, “and I am utterly charmed to meet you.”

For just a second he shot Allison a look, winking, and she had to cover her laughter with a cough.

“Um guys - my boyfriend, Alexander Saxon.”

It turned out to be a truly marvellous evening. When questioned closer on the ‘gentleman’ claim, Alex happily expanded up on the fact that he was Lord Cole’s nephew and second in line to the title - after which he promptly offered to introduce them all to his cousin Geoffrey, but only if they promised to, if at all possible, marry the young man in question and have many, many children so Alex would never have to be bothered with large, ostentatious country houses and piles of money.

"He's not joking," Allison said, and then Alex offered to get them all drinks. He proceeded to spend the rest of the evening being attentive, witty and charming to such an extent that when her friends finally left - close to midnight - he had them practically eating out of his hand, and they declared him the catch of the Century as they walked out to the waiting taxi.

That night, as Allison was getting ready for bed, she couldn't help turning the last few days over in her head. Most people, as one got to know them, showed a certain consistency in their behaviour, but Alex... Alex really was _different_. The longer she knew him, the more sides he seemed to display - during the last few days she'd had the inveterate show off, the history enthusiast, the anguished star gazer, the pedantic driver and now the consummate charmer, to name but the most prominent of his facets... She remembered finding this chameleon talent a bit disturbing back when they'd first met - unsure if any of it was actually the 'real' him, or just some kind of performance. Now she was leaning more towards the idea that he was quite simply a collection of all these different aspects, and at some point she'd have a more or less complete picture - like collecting pieces of a jigsaw.

She mentioned this as she kissed him goodnight a little later, and he tilted his head, the light above illuminating his hair like a halo. For a second she felt like the world went topsy turvy - it was _Alexander Saxon_ , someone who had until less than half a year ago been a figure only known faintly from newspapers, and he was standing there on _her landing_. Then he spoke, and the odd spell was broken.

"As always, you are exceedingly perceptive, Allie. Although I wonder what you will make of the whole picture once you have it..."

She shook her head. If obliqueness was a virtue, it was one he had in abundance. And yet - the moment in the Planetarium kept coming back to her. For the briefest moment _something_ had happened to throw him out of his usual equilibrium, and she had seen something... raw and vulnerable that she didn’t know how to deal with. And neither did he, clearly. He’d sealed up so impeccably that she almost felt she had dreamt it, but not knowing how to broach the subject, she decided to ask Matt and Josh once they were all back at Cambridge.

The final thought in her mind as she drifted off to sleep, however, was a deeply reassuring one: Despite all the talk about _History_ , his heart obviously belonged to the stars, just the same as hers.

***

The last day, and as they stood on the cold train platform waiting, her mother pulled a small pot with a twig in it out of her sturdy bag, and handed it over to Alex. Allison raised an eyebrow, but Alex's face broke out into a wide grin.

"Thank you, that's perfect."

Her mother looked slightly concerned.

"Cuttings are supposed to be done in late summer..." she began, but he took the pot and looked at the twig with great appreciation.

"Oh I'm _very_ good at growing things," he said, and Allison tapped her mother’s shoulder.

"What _is_ it?" she asked, and her mother smiled.

"A cutting from the plum tree - I asked him what he’d like as a Christmas present, and that is what he chose."

"I'll make my own plum jam in future," he said happily, and Allison shook her head.

"In, like, twenty years time," she replied, and he studied the tiny twig fondly.

"I'm very patient," he said, before pulling out a very small and very light present from a pocket, telling her to under no circumstances to open it before Christmas morning.

Then Toby’s train pulled up to the platform, and there were quick introductions and shaking of hands, until Alex looked up and pulled a face.

“The Cardiff train will be here soon. Better get across the tracks.”

Allison frowned.

“Cardiff? Aren’t you going home?”

“A boy’s holidays are his own property,” Alex said with dancing eyes, “And I am going on the road with Mahbub Ali.”

“You... _what_?”

He chuckled. “Sorry, literary reference - Kim, by Kipling. I’ve found it rather apropos recently. Essentially this is the compromise I reached with my Uncle, if you remember? I’m allowed a modicum of freedom in my holidays, so I’m off to Jack’s.”

“But it’s Christmas in two day’s time,” she said, and he shrugged, eyes still wide and happy. “I’ll stretch them if need be.”

“Good luck with that,” she answered, smiling to take the edge off the words, and he laughed again.

”Time is a funny thing.”

And then, after a swift, if dizzying kiss, he was gone, holdall over one shoulder and twiglet cradled in his left hand.

***

Allison discovered that Alex had been only _too_ right when he talked about time stretching, as the two days in question turned out to be almost impossibly long. Partly because she missed Alex, who might as well have vanished off the face of the Earth for all she could get hold of him (‘Torchwood regrets to inform you that the person you are trying to get hold of is currently unavailable’ the polite recording repeated every time she called; _'Boys'_ , she thought, and refused to worry), and partly because she was driven to distraction by trying to work out what was inside the tiny box he’d given her.

Having come up with approximately half a million different possibilities, the reality still managed to stun her as she finally stared into the inside of it on Christmas Morning, forgetting about the multicoloured tree, the tea cup on the table next to her, the decorations and the Christmas music playing on the radio as well as the rest of her family who were tearing into their own presents.

"So, what did he get you?" Jimmy asked nosily, and she slowly picked up the small pieces of paper that might just as well have been made of fairy dust, for all that she'd ever expected to hold one in her hand.

"Tickets to the Live Simpsons Musical," she said faintly.

The Simpsons Musical... The first proper hologram musical, a feat of engineering and invention and musical ingenuity, the tickets for which were more expensive than gold; and they were _hers_.

Looking in the box, she saw a note.

> Merry Christmas Allie

> Know you love the Simpsons, so this struck me as something you'd appreciate. I can get more tickets if you want your friends to come along, but I thought it'd be nice to go there for New Year's Eve, just the two of us, and make a proper night of it. We could start with a nice restaurant (The Ritz maybe?), go the see the show, and then make our way down to see the fireworks. Let me know what you'd like, and I'll make arrangements - your wish is my command.

> Yours,  
> S

  
"Why 'S'?" Jimmy asked, puzzled, and Allison answered distractedly, voice distant.

"For Saxon. He always signs stuff that way."

She didn't care how he signed his name, didn't care that he was weird and strange with multiple personalities and sometimes moody. All she could think was: 'He is the _perfect_ boyfriend.'


	10. Chapter 10

New Year’s Eve proved as magical as expected, but it was the start of the new term that brought the real surprise.

Alex, of course, didn’t turn up for the first lecture of the term, but he didn’t appear afterwards either, and it was only later in the afternoon - when it was nearing evening - that she got a text: 

_‘Come to Dolans Butchers. S.’_

Knowing better than to start asking questions, she wrapped up warm and (with a little help from Google maps) made her way to the place in question, just in time to see a rotund man (the very image of a butcher), rolling down the metal blinds in front of the window and locking up, as Alex pulled on his duffle coat next to him.

“Allie!” he said, features lighting up at the sight of her, and the butcher turned.

"This is the girlfriend, eh? Student, I take it?"

"Indeed," Alex confirmed. "Astrophysics."

The butcher raised an eyebrow. "A brainbox, eh? Your funeral..."

"Oh yeah, I like them smart," Alex said, smiling proudly, before making proper introductions, after which the butcher shook his hand, thanking him for the day's work and - with a brief aside to Allison about how her boyfriend was the most talented young man he'd ever met, _never_ had he come across someone who had picked stuff up _like that_ \- and then reminded Alex about what time he was supposed to start the next morning, and Alex nodded solemnly and promised to be there on the dot.

"He takes time keeping very seriously," Allison added, and Alex laughed.

"She knows me well..."

As soon as the butcher had left, however, Allison held up a hand.

"Explain. Now."

Alex smiled beatifically.

"I'm training to be a butcher, I thought that was pretty obvious."

"But... _why_?" 

Of all the millions of things he could be doing, this would not even have made her list. 

"Well - it's twofold..."

Taking her hand he started walking, and she followed, listening.

"You might remember that I told my Uncle that I had thought of stuff to keep me occupied, and this is essentially it: I'm just going to learn stuff. Anything and everything. Butchery, bookbinding, cartography, flower arranging, millinery... I've got a proper list and everything. If I spend approximately a week on each craft or trade, I should have amassed a fair collection of useful skills by the end of my stint here. I started with butchery because of Mowgli."

"Mowgli," she repeated, once more impressed with his off-the wall non sequiturs.

"In the Jungle Book," he began, in full lecturing mode, "after Mowgli kills Shere Khan, he _skins_ him, and then spreads his hide on the Council Rock and dances on it... But. To quote the book: _'A boy trained among men would never have dreamed of skinning a ten-foot tiger alone, but Mowgli knew better than anyone else how an animal's skin is fitted on, and how it can be taken off.'_ I can't _begin_ to tell you how much I begged my uncle to teach me how to do that when I was little - and to let me have my own knife, just like Mowgli did... I rather over-identified with Mowgli back then. However, it is very good to finally learn how to do it. Of course tigers are different from cows and pigs, but I figure the underlying principle is the same. If I ever kill a tiger, I'll know how to skin it myself. Wouldn't mind a tiger rug..."

She listened to this with growing bafflement. 

"Are you planning on killing any tigers then?" she finally asked, and he frowned pensively.

"Not really. But you never know. You see that's the thing about this whole venture - I love learning things, and I want to know _everything_. And part of the reason for that is that you never know what life will throw at you. I _hate_ not being prepared."

For a moment a shadow passed across his face, but she wasn't sure whether it was just the actual shadow of passing under a streetlight, or something deeper. When he spoke again - asking her how _her_ day had been - there was no hint of hidden emotions, and she decided not to pursue it.

***

At the first available opportunity, however, she got together with Matt and Josh and told them about what had happened before Christmas.

"You... took him to a _Planetarium_?" Matt asked slowly, as Josh leaned forward, eyes narrowing.

"How did he take it?"

She bit her lip. "Not very well. I was hoping maybe you could explain why?"

A moment, then they both shook their heads.

"Sorry," Matt said apologetically, "He'll tell you in his own time."

Josh, however, looked oddly pleased.

"Nice to know that Mr Always Knows Best isn't coping as well as he said. Best thing his uncle ever did, sending him here - seems the cure is working, at least a little."

"What do you mean?" Allison asked, puzzled, but Josh suddenly clammed up completely and only said "You'll see", with a _significant look_ that Allison didn't like at all. Matt however rolled his eyes, and Allison thought _'Boys'_ and decided to ignore the remark for the time being.

***

With Alex busy with his different projects, and she herself busy with her studies, the months seemed to fly by as they settled into a comfortable routine, Alex seemingly determined to keep hold of his title of Perfect (if eccentric) Boyfriend; being attentive, yet never crowding her, and above all always brilliant company.

He also proved himself a continually considerate and thoughtful lover, with just the right amount of adventurousness and inventiveness. (Allison more than suspected that he got tips from Jack, but didn’t dare ask as she was 99% sure that the answer would be a nonplussed: ‘Well of course’.)

So the oddness of Christmas (and other instances of peculiarity) slowly receded beneath a wave of pleasant (although never dull or predictable) relationshipness, and if she ever thought of them she put them down to 'General Alex Weirdness' - besides, she was his girlfriend, not his therapist. 

Then came May Day. 

Afterwards she sometimes wondered if things had gone differently - if they hadn't gone to the Fair, say - events would not have taken such a decisive and dark turn. But then, Alex was Alex - and sooner or later things would probably have come to a head, no matter what. Alex's summation a week later (he sometimes had a downright spooky ability to guess what went through her head) was the very brief and simple: "It happened, and I'm not letting it go. There's no point in pondering could-have-beens. All I want to know is - where do you want to go from here?"

***

_Friday 1st May 2026_  
It was a small noise - somewhere between a sigh and a whimper - and Allison looked up from her text book to see Alex, head resting heavily in his hands, staring at his laptop screen with quiet misery.

The flat was quiet, intermittent sunbeams playing across the table between when them when the clouds lost the ongoing battle of trying to keep the sun hidden, the afternoon stretching out in front of them full of delightfully empty hours.

She’d fallen into the habit of Friday afternoon study sessions in Alex's flat, as Matt and Josh were usually elsewhere so it was quiet. Alex would more often than not join her at around 3 pm, making a pot of tea and getting out his own laptop, and they'd sit in companionable silence until they got hungry and decided it was time for some kind of dinner. 

Winding down the week by going over all the new things she’d learned was something she’d started several years before, and she now found it an integral part of how she worked, happy to be able to incorporate it into her university life.

Today Alex had arrived at 1 o'clock, having finished early at a boat builders (oddly enough he'd seemed to get more and more maudlin as the week went on - she half suspected he was coming down with something), and they'd already spent more than hour in silent study. (Although what exactly Alex was studying Allison wasn't sure of.)

“What’s the matter?” she asked - surprised, and vaguely concerned - and he closed his eyes.

“Slowly going mad out of frustration....”

As she didn’t answer he looked up, and elaborated.

“Sorry. Don’t want to break into your study time, just to state the obvious. But... OK, so I'm keeping busy, and I'm learning things, and I'm doing pretty well, all told. But there's still all the things I was planning to do before I was shipped off to this deadend, and it's just _sitting there_ , useless, as theory is no good without being able to do proper tests. I have all this _work_ -” he held out his hands towards the laptop, features getting animated, “ _Good_ work, _important_ work, possibly _vital_ work, and it’s utterly useless because I can’t build or test or implement single thing.”

Letting his hands fall into his lap, dejection once more claimed him.

“I miss my lab,” he added, voice small and wistful, and the words at the tip of Allison’s tongue were forgotten.

“You... have a lab?” she asked, watching him across the kitchen table in astonishment, but he just nodded, still looking forlorn and uncommunicative.

“Why did you never tell me this? A lab? Like a science lab?”

A wisful sigh, complete with the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

“Everything - anything - lab. The most beautiful thing you can imagine.”

 _“Alex!”_

Looking up he seemed to focus on her properly for the first time.

“Alex! You have a lab and you never told me?”

He shrugged, the wistfulness of the smile turning bitter.

“Doesn’t matter anyway. I can’t get to it. I’ll show you one day, but for now it might as well not exist.” 

Taking a deep breath he leaned on his hands again, studying the laptop.

“I’m wasting my time. Time is... slipping through my fingers. Drip drip drip. Second by second by second and I _hate_ it. Hate this... forced suspension of my life. Locked up, shut away, with only pointless distractions to keep me occupied..." 

Eyes darkening, the smile vanished. 

"They did it to him, you know. My Uncle. Exiled him and curtailed him and tied him down to one place. He knows _exactly_ how I feel, that’s the rub. He chose the punishment that would hurt the most - so goddamn twisted."

Trying to sort through the barrage of new information, she tried to remember what had started it all and focus on that, because he was far too good at getting sidetracked.

“But if it’s _important_ work, can’t you tell your uncle...”

Her voice trailed off at the look he sent her.

“The whole reason I was looking forward to getting proper freedom was the fact that I’d be able to do stuff without him breathing down my neck... I’d have somewhere to do stuff in _private_ , without lectures.”

A sigh, far too cynical for someone that young.

“Heck if this punishment has taught me anything it’s to lie as much as possible - the truth only gets you in trouble.”

“I’m not sure I like what you’re implying,” she said slowly, and he studied her candidly, his smile suddenly back to its normal self.

“I’m a lying liar who lies?”

“That’s not funny,” she admonished, and the smile vanished.

“No it isn’t, I suppose... I guess I just want to find _some_ kind of upside to this place - other than you. Forcing me to stay here isn’t about teaching me anything - or rather, any lessons are incidental. It’s about making me _pay_. If they can’t make me apologise or change my mind, at least I can be made to suffer. And it’s working far too well.”

Catching her eyes, he sighed. 

“I’ve tried. I’ve really tried. But there’s two years left and I... I thought I was good at adapting and make the best of things. But I’m reaching my limits and I don’t know what to do.”

For a long moment she studied him, then put her book firmly down. The diagnosis was now clear: 'Acute Attack of Self-Pity-itis'. Usually he snapped out of it fairly quickly, but obviously something at this boat builders had done a number on him. Thankfully she knew a cure.

“Let’s go see what the May Day Fair is like - I know it’s there all weekend, but I think you need a proper distraction.”

“Um... alright,” he answered, still oddly lifeless, but she closed his laptop and took his hand.

“Come on, you clearly need something else to focus on. Besides - I’m sure there’ll be plenty of opportunities for you to show off.”

And finally he laughed.

***

As she suspected, the Fair proved to be just the thing. It was big and noisy and full of people, and Alex visibly blossomed. Already the place had that peculiar fair ground smell - popcorn and hotdogs and sugar all coalescing in the spring warmth - and, although there were 14 year old in skimpy outfits and parents with young children and dons in impeccable tweed and everything in between - the normal fairground clientele - they were all far outnumbered by students. Seemingly the whole of Cambridge had decided to check out the fair at the same time.

Allison looked for any one she knew, but it was hopeless, so they bought some candy floss, went on the tea cups and Allison was contemplating the bumper cars when Alex grasped her arm.

"Look! A shooting tent!"

"Is that legal?" she asked, but he just said "Oh who _cares_ ," and dragged her into the tent, where they promptly had to undergo various checks to verify their age.

Happily studying the prizes, Alex immediately focussed on the top prize - and giant purple teddy bear, about 4 foot tall - and turned to her, beaming.

"I'm going to get you that one!"

Without waiting to hear whether she _wanted_ a giant purple teddy bear, he waltzed up to the stall keeper and proceeded to talk shop.

Inspecting the - to Allison's eyes - rather lethal weapon he was handed ("It's only an air rifle!"), he turned it this way and that before declaring it the worst gun he'd ever seen.

"And I've been partridge shooting with my Grand Uncle Arthur, who uses a musket that he swears dates from the Civil War..."

The stall holder clearly didn't know what to say to this, and Alex just grinned, saying "Lord Cole - twice removed - sends his compliments," before lifting the air rifle, aiming carefully, and then - swiftly reloading after each shot, as the rifle could apparently only hold one little metal ball at a time - with perfect precision destroying row upon row of the moving little targets, the stall holder's mouth slowly falling further and further open.

Laying down the rifle on the counter, mission accomplished, Alex once again managed to out-smug anyone within at least ten miles.

"Teddy bear please?" he said, and mere moments later they were outside again, Allison's arms full of purple fur.

"Alex-" she said, trying to shift the plush giant to one side, "I appreciate the effort, but what am I supposed to _do_ with this?"

"Anything you want!" he replied, unconcernedly. "It'll make a lovely thing for snuggling up to at night for example."

"I suppose," she said slowly, and he proceeded to take the bear out of her arms, burying his face in it.

"Just image all this softness next to you all night... Like a big cat, all soft and furry and warm. Mmmmmm, cats."

She lifted an eyebrow.

"And how long have you had this secret crush on our feline friends?"

"Oh I _luurve_ cats," he answered, voice practically a purr, "so gorgeous and mysterious and slinkily self-contained. I'm very fond of you, but you'd understand if I left you for a cat, right? You only have fur on the head, after all..."

"Alex..." she started, biting her lip to try to stop herself from giggling, "stop it."

"Stop?" he echoed, as though this was an entirely new and strange concept. "You have finally exposed my true leanings and appetites, I can't turn back now. Someone bring me a tabby this instant to snog!"

"Alex!" she said again, this time shaking with laughter as he did a good imitation of snogging the teddy bear, "Please! People are looking at us!" 

"Well it's not every day you see someone kissing a bear pretending it's a cat - people are bound to find it fascinating..."

His eyes narrowed, scanning the crowd with sudden seriousness, and she determinedly took the bear out of his arms and walked towards the bumper cars.

"Allie - I saw-"

"I don't care. _I_ want to do some driving. I was going to share a car with you, but I think that instead I shall have the bear as a partner - I'll see if we can get you to drive aggressively."

A wicked smile immediately lit up on his face.

"Oh you're on!"

Never a dull moment, and she loved it. Loved the way he could tip any situation (no matter how dull) to somehow becoming mad and fun, could weave entertainment out of thin air and sheer boundless imagination. He was unlike anyone else, and it still caused a thrill that he was _hers_. That all the showing off, and the thoughtful gestures and all that _knowledge_ , all tailored for her - for the two of them - and not anyone else. The cleverest boy in the world... and _she_ was dating him.

Come evening they ended up in a fish and chip shop, eating the still too-hot fish with relish and washing it down with tea, which was perfect on account of them being very thirsty. The chips were fat and soggy with vinegar (and delicious), and the colour of the mushy peas had Alex making comments about nuclear waste... If Allison had been forced to choose between this meal and the one at the Ritz, it'd have been a close thing.

"This," Alex declared as they walked out, still trying to clean his greasy fingers with a napkin, "has been a marvellous day. Hey - I think this is a shortcut!" And he dived into a side street, the whole thing of course being nothing more than a ploy to get her away from 'people' so he could kiss her.

Something which Allison approved of very much. 

And then... one moment she was losing herself in a kiss (soft lips, gentle touches, the world vanishing around them) - the next her arms held nothing but a teddy bear, and when she opened her eyes she saw that Alex was several yards down the road, pinning a non-descript man to the wall by his throat.

Forcing her legs to move, she ran down to them, getting close enough to hear Alex's coldly furious dressing down.

“Now you listen to me, _parasite_ : I realise that I’m public property. But my girlfriend isn’t. So trust me when I say, that if you _in any way_ impinge on her life, I will make your useless existance not worth living. Understood?”

The man, seemingly frozen in place (which wasn’t surprising), attempted a nod, and Alex smiled grimly.

“Good.”

At which point Allison managed to find her voice.

“Alex - what the _hell_ are you doing?”

He frowned, then turned his head, looking at her with annoyance.

“You made me lose my concentration! Now I might have to do it again!”

“Do _what_ again? Threaten people? How is that OK?”

Tilting his head, he seemed almost confused.

“And what do you suggest I do? Just let him go? Do you _want_ your picture all over the tabloids with a filthy pun across it? Oh, or should I punch him and break his camera? That’s the ‘normal’ behaviour in these circumstances, isn’t it? Told you I saw someone... Have been waiting all day to catch him.”

“But... Look at you. This guy is probably just trying to make a living.”

She gestured with the hand that wasn’t full of giant teddy bear, and Alex slowly turned his head and looked the paparrazi photographer over.

“Hm. My girlfriend seems to think that you’re more human than I give you credit for.”

Abruptly letting go - to such an extent that the man staggered and coughed, trying to find his balance - Alex then studied him, eyes narrowing.

“So go on then - what’s your excuse? And don’t even _think_ about making a run for it.”

The man glared as Alex held his camera aloft, impotent fury and loathing visible in the orange glow from the lamps, and his reply was a barely concealed sneer.

“Like your girlfriend said not all of us were born into piles of money and privilege. I’ve got a wife on incapacity benefit - which is about 3 pence a month - and two kids that need educating, and I’m not sending them to local comp, trust me. And that’s before we get to the rent and the bills. I’m not proud of what I do, but it allows us to make ends meet.”

Alex, slowly turning the camera over in his hands, shook his head.

“Like I said, I know I’m public property. I’m every inch the rich spoiled brat you think I am. But _she_ isn’t. And she’s not dating me for the privileges. I won't allow you ruin things for her.” 

The photographer clearly didn't care in the least, but stayed silent as Alex seemed to mull something over.

“Tell me - if you could do anything... What would you do? If money wasn’t an issue?”

“What?” 

The disgust was giving way to confusion, but Alex pressed his case.

“What are your dreams? What did you want to become when you grew up?”

“I...” he looked from one to the other, and Allison felt as confused as the man looked. Thakfully he decided to speak, still angry enough to want to somehow get back at Alex.

“I wanted to be a wildlife photographer. Won a couple of competitions, but there’s no money in that field. And if could do anything I wanted? I’d be off to Australia faster than you can blink. This country is going to the dogs, and I’d like to give my kids and nice bright start in life. Shame that’s never going to happen.”

“Australia...” Alex said thoughtfully, “Well, that would get you out of my way.”

Tossing the camera back to its owner, he folded his arms.

“Right then. Here’s the deal. You’ve got a choice: You can go home and do the right thing. You delete those photos, and you tell all your little vulture friends that my friends - and _especially_ my girlfriend - is _off limits_ , and maybe the gods will smile on you. Or you can go home, cash in those pictures for a quick buck, and watch as calamity descends.”

Holding the camera tightly to his chest, the guy seemed to literally have little cogs turning in his brain.

“So... you’re, like, paying me off?”

Alex stared at him with illconcealed horror and disgust.

“Just how thick _are_ you? You think I want all your grubby little colleagues running along hoping for a fat cheque? As if.”

Stepping closer, he looked deep into the other’s eyes.

“I meant what I said. Go home, do what’s right, and _pray_.”

The man nodded, something like fear or awe on his face, and then he scrambled away.

Allison, holding on more tightly to the teddy, could only look at Alex, as he stood looking after him, head held high and eyes blazing, smiling to himself.

“Well... it’ll be interesting to see which way he goes. I hope he goes the right way - creation is so much more enjoyable than destruction. Especially considering the wife and kids etcetera.”

“Alex... what just happened? Are you seriously going to...”

He turned to her, perfectly pleasant, yet still with that hint of steel under the surface. She'd never been more unsettled by him, and he'd never seemed more thoroughly content.

“Well... _yes_. I’m not one for making empty threats.”

“But you can’t... you can’t play God with people’s lives.”

“Says who?”

“Says I!”

He shrugged.

“So you're higher in the moral universe? Interesting. Should have seen that coming I suppose. But before you get all outraged, remember that he’s got free will - I just gave him a head’s up. Made the stakes a little easier to see.”

She stared at him, unable to believe what she was hearing.

“ _Listen_ to yourself. In what world is what you’re doing acceptable behaviour?”

Infuriatingly he remained perfectly calm, looking at her with only the cool attentiveness she was much too familiar with.

“I was brought up by a hero, a villain and a secret government agent. That’s the world I’m familiar with, and that’s the world I do my best to navigate every day.”

“Oh... _shut up!_ Don’t start bringing in your father or whoever you want to blame for being screwed up. This is a _real_ person with a _real_ life and you’re treating it as some kind of game...”

She finally seemed to have hit a nerve, except not the one she was expecting. He looked genuniely taken aback, and when he spoke it was with deep seriousness - almost anger:

“Allie... The one thing I’ve known for as long as I can remember, is this: It’s _always_ real. I’ve no problem with you disagreeing with my methods or my moral values or my behaviour. But don’t _ever_ think that I’m not fully aware of my actions, or unwilling to take responsibility for them. Why do you think I’m so frustrated being here? I have nothing in common with all these children, playing at being grownups, but without a shred of responsibility except for managing a timetable.”

“Well it’s nice to know what you think of me,” she said, knowing that she was being childish and speaking out of anger and hurt, but she couldn’t help herself.

She expected him to rush in with caveats, assurances that of course he hadn’t been talking about _her_ , but of course he was _Alex_...

“I don’t have much in common with _anyone_ ,” he said carefully. “And I never will. I hoped that you and I would be able to bridge the gaps... Was I wrong?”

And it was like arguing with quicksand...

"It... would _really_ have helped if you'd explained the specific gaps that needed bridging," she said, and he tilted his head.

“Well... I’ve never done this before. I don’t presume to know your limits by intuition alone. And morals are _hard_. Morals are the hardest thing in the world to work out. Which is why I guess we both like numbers - hard facts that can’t lie. If only the world was composed of facts alone...”

“Alex...” she said, stepping forwards, because she wasn't sure what was happening, only she didn't like it, and he reached out, a gentle hand on her arm.

“Allie - the _reason_ I’m here is because I refused to distance myself from, or apologise for, what the Doctor saw as a moral decision. Life never gives us straightforward good and evil, black and white... It’s always endless shades of grey, and all we can do is try to work out a choice that we can live with - something that won’t make us wake up in the middle of the night with regrets. Being here is endlessly frustrating, but not a fraction as bad as I would feel if I went against my better judgement. Ditto that idiot photographer - I can’t think of a better choice to have given him, so even if he chooses the wrong way, it won’t make me lose any sleep.” 

And somehow he _still_ didn’t get it.

“That’s not my _point_. That kind of decision is not _yours_ to make, all on your own. If you don’t want him to take photos then drag him to court, but this... this vigilantism...”

At which he actually _smiled_.

“Like I said: Brought up by a hero, a villain and a secret government agent. And this is the one thing they all agree on: Never follow the rules.”

No wonder he was so messed up, if this was genuinely what he'd been taught. Still, it didn't magically get him off the hook.

“So you’re just... _special_.”

“Yes. I am.”

“And the normal rules just don’t apply to you?”

“No they don’t.”

She didn’t know what to say. Didn’t have a single clue how to deal with this.

Cupping her face, he studied her solemnly.

“Told you that you wouldn’t leave because I got in your way...”

“Who says I’m leaving?” she finally asked, and he slowly shook his head.

“I’m not changing. I _can’t_ change. Not in any way that would satisfy you at least... Can you accept that? Accept me?”

She remembered her impression from when they’d first met, the way he seemed to float above all the rules and regulations. It had been ‘just an Alex thing’. Having it confirmed as fact didn’t help at all.

“I... don’t know,” she said softly, and he closed his eyes momentarily.

“I’m not asking you to agree with me. Or approve of me or... anything like that. Just to accept that I do things my way.”

“You expect that to _work_?”

“Allie-” he let his hand drop, and just looked utterly helpless. “I don’t know how to do this. What are you thinking?”

She was silent for a moment, then looked him straight in the eyes.

“I think your uncle was right in sending you here.”

His eyes narrowed.

“You don’t know what I did...” he said lightly, and she shook her head.

“Doesn’t matter. For all I care you could have been rigging the lottery to help blind orphans, but that still doesn't mean that the end justifies the means.”

“Miles off the mark, although that’s a _lovely_ idea...”

“Don’t you see? That’s the problem. It’s not a ‘lovely idea’, it’s _breaking the law_. And if this is the way to try to teach you some kind of restraint, then I’m all behind it. Because I think I can finally see how you resemble your father.”

“Oh,” he said tonelessly, going completely still, eyes suddenly dark and lost. “I... can’t do anything about that. Is that it then?”

"I've no idea."

Reaching out again, she laid a hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat through the T-shirt, as a slight tremor passed through him.

“Remember that thing about you being like a jigsaw? I think I just found a large piece. And I'm going to need a bit of time..."

"OK," he said softly; and they went their separate ways.

***

The next morning however, Allison made her way to Jamie's. She needed to talk to someone, and Josh was bound to be at Jamie's. Also she quite simply loved Jamie's cosily cluttered flat, and the fact that beneath the brusque exterior sie was perfectly pleasant - a discovery which had been a long time coming, but once understood had made everything much simpler.

Although when Josh opened the door, wearing only a purple silk kimono, she felt more than a little awkward.

"Sorry... I was hoping I could maybe talk to you... But if this isn't a good time..."

"No no, come in," he said, opening the door further to let her in, and she saw Jamie (in a green kimono which matched hir hair) waving from the kitchen.

"Hi Allie. Not sure I've got enough breakfast for four, but I'll try my best."

"Um, Alex isn't with me. Last night..."

Her voice trailed off, and Josh tilted his head, the drowsy morning sun caressing perfect cheekbones.

"You finally fell out?"

"I don't know, it's - complicated."

"Grab a seat and tell me what happened," he said, and she slowly told the whole story, right from the afternoon's partial meltdown to the final argument, as Jamie brought toast and scrambled eggs and tea.

Josh listened to everything without any kind of overt reaction, and when she'd finished nodded to himself.

"The treatening part - that's totally his dad. Giving the guy a choice, that's the Doctor. But the last part... the manipulation..."

His eyes narrowed and he took a sip of his tea.

"That's a bit Jack and Torchwood, but Jack would never get that elaborate, I don't think. Torchwood tends to just retcon people. Hmmm. It's very _him_ , though. Total control freak, and he does, on occasion, believe that the sun actually revolves around him..."

Allison rubbed her eyes - she'd not slept well, and she could swear that a headache was now creeping up on her.

"But... He can't just... _do_ that..."

Josh smiled an eery echo of Alex's smile.

"Oh but he can. That's the thing. He really can. He might never do it again, but he could."

"So..."

"It's up to you. If you can live with that, go back to him. If you can't, don't."

She sighed.

"You make it sound so simple..."

"It is, in a manner of speaking."

Allison leaned back in the comfy armchair, and wondered at how something so simple could simultaneously be so difficult. Looking at Josh and Jamie, now snuggled up like a pair of cats - beautiful and perfectly content - she couldn't help feeling a stab of jealousy. There were clearly no problems in this little household.

***

She spent the following week trying to work things out in her head, and utterly failing. She was distracted during her lectures, but more or less managed to keep up pretenses around the other students - Alex's habit of not being around for once being a plus.

But come Friday she realised that she'd not even managed to get hold of their new text book, something she would need to familiarise herself with before Monday. Making her way into the Library, she decided to not even bother trying to find it on her own, but to ask for help. Knowing where her head was at, she'd probably walk out with Don Quixote instead...

But as she stepped up to the counter and began speaking, she suddenly faltered as she saw Alex's pleasantly helpful face in front of her.

"This is the book you're after, right?" he asked, handing it over (of course he knew) and she just stared.

"So you're a librarian now? Does it help with masterminding other people's lives?"

Clearly the argument hadn't gone away at all, they were just going to continue it right where they'd left it.

"Not really... But speaking of masterminding, then, as it happens, a couple of weeks ago our mutual friend's wife entered him into a photography competition. He's quite good, so he's going to win that. The prize will be a trip to Australia to illustrate an article. His wife - or possibly his mother - feeling lucky, will buy a lottery ticket, and they'll win just enough money for wife and kids to go with him. Whilst there-"

"Alex!"

He sighed.

"It happened, and I'm not letting it go. There's no point in pondering could-have-beens. All I want to know is - where do you want to go from here?"

She lowered her eyes.

"I don't know. I really don't know."

"Because I've been thinking..."

Lifting her eyes again, she realised that he was now leaning forward on the counter.

"I miss you. A lot. So... what do you say that we become friends with benefits, rather than a couple? Both Matt and Josh argue with me endlessly about my attitudes, but they're still my friends. So we could do the same, but just keep the sex - because that part's nice. And you wouldn't have to worry about my morals and we'd be fine."

She almost burst out laughing, because it was so _him_ it was ridiculous... Instead she tried her best not to smile, something she didn't suceed at very well.

"To me it sounds like you just want to have your cake and eat it too."

"Well of course I do - who doesn't?"

"Excuse me, I believe this is a Library, not a relationship help desk. If you wouldn't mind?"

Startled and embarrassed, Allison turned to see a middle aged woman - clearly a professor of some kind - looking at them with great annoyance, but, turning back to Alex, intending to excuse herself and leave the matter until later, she found him staring at the woman fixedly.

"Modern Classics. _That_ way," he said, pointing, and the woman walked off without another word.

"How did you know what she wanted?" Allison asked, and he shrugged.

"Didn't. But she should leave us alone for a while. So - what do you think to my proposition?"

"I have no idea. But... I've missed you too. Can we just - try to work out what to do _together_? Because I'm not getting anywhere on my own."

"Absolutely," he replied, and for the remainder of the term they existed in limbo. It was a strange neither on-nor-off kinda thing, and Allison wondered how long she'd end up not-dating Alex for, as she was getting 'Four Weddings and a Funeral' vibes after a while. Or maybe it was Ross and Rachel and 'being on a break'... Although, thankfully, he was the least likely person to cheat, like, ever. 

The problem being that no amount of discussions led anywhere. He was utterly unapologetic (especially as masterminding the photographer's new life became his primary focus for a short while - doing everything from halfway across the world proving to be an irresistible challenge), but as Allison refused to let him off the hook, it seemed like they'd reached a stalemate that looked unlikely to ever be broken. Alex said something about it being a perfect Catch-22 of stubbornness, and she wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. She missed him like crazy, even though he was _right there_ , and the thought of spending two years with him _right there_ , but unable to be _with_ him, was nearly driving her mad.

But then came the summer holidays, and everything she thought she knew about Alex was turned upside down all over again.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helena and her family are borrowed/stolen/based upon 'Det Store Nummer' by Anne Marie Løn. Which you should all read, except it's in Danish... (Also apologies for cliché abuse at one point. But clichés are very useful shortcuts...)

A week into the summer holidays, and Allison was already bored with being at home. But Alex had done his previous trick of vanishing entirely, and besides, since they were 'on a break', she couldn't even luxuriate in feeling abandoned. More importantly, she needed a job. Studying didn't come cheap, and even with student loans she was struggling (Alex would of course help if she asked, but her principles made it impossible for her to take that way out).

Summer jobs, sadly, weren't easy to find, and looking for them was incredibly dull, so when she saw the alert for an incoming call from Alex as she was scouring job sites on the internet she didn't hesitate in answering. 

He beamed at her, as if there had never been any arguments, and she tried to look at him sternly.

"Where have you been? Or rather - where are you?"

"Belgium," he promptly answered, and she blinked in surprised.

"Belgium? Why Belgium?"

"I ran away with the circus - look!"

He moved the video phone around, giving her a swift sweep of what was quite obviously a circus setting up camp - a big top was visible in the background and a large group of various camper vans and horse boxes and other oddments were scattered around, with people busy sorting and arranging...

She shook her head, almost laughing out loud.

"Of course you did. Can I ask _why_?"

"Came past with my uncle - who is being a bastard and won't let me travel completely on my own - and one of their trapeze artists has an injury so I'm training as his replacement - for the summer, see?"

He smiled, happier than she'd seen him in a long time.

"New places every day, new sights to see, difficult skills to master... Oh, and I've been semi-adopted by this family of trapeze artists and acrobats, they're _marvellous_. Wait - here's Helena..."

He turned to wave to someone, and a moment later a pretty girl, early twenties maybe, dressed in a track suit and her hair in a simple pony tail, looked over Alex's shoulder.

"Allison, this is Helena - she's the main star, and the one who's been training me. Helena - Allison."

Helena smiled a brightly vivid smile and did a little wave to say hello. She wasn't flawlessly gorgeous in the way of Josh or Jamie, nor carefully made up like Chelsea, no - hers was a beauty born of health and fitness and unconscious self-confidence, and she regarded Allison with great interest. 

"Alexei - this is your... how do you say it... _Cheri_?"

"Yes," Allison replied instantly. "His girlfriend."

She could see Alex being somewhat taken aback, but Helana didn't notice.

"Thank you, my English has... gaps. Allison? Your boy-friend is... merveilleux. No wait - _invraisemblable_. You know this word?"

Although she wasn't quite sure on the meaning, she could certainly make an educated guess, and nodded.

"He certainly is that."

Then there was a call in the distance and Helana excused herself, leaving Alex to study Allison with wry amusement.

"I'm a boyfriend?"

"For the sake of you travelling round Europe with lots of pretty and hyper-fit people, yes, you're definitely spoken for."

A cheeky smile, that made her stomach do flip-flops in a way that very distracting indeed.

"Well that's a shocking victory for young love over principles - or are we talking something as simple as jealousy?"

"Shut up."

He smiled softly.

"I never would. Doesn't even enter my head. However, you could make it all void by joining me..."

She stared at him blankly, before frowning. 

"Joining you?"

"Yes. Come spend the summer at the circus with me. I've got myself a camper van with plenty of room for two, so accommodation is sorted and free. You're looking for a summer job, and they could certainly use another hand for all kinds of extra jobs - selling tickets and concessions, feeding the animals... there's tons to do, and their wages are pretty decent. And I'm dealing with the day-to-day expenses anyway, so you'd get to keep all of your earnings."

It sounded entirely too perfect, and Allison was becoming suspicious of perfection by now - something she didn't hesitate in pointing out. Plus, they were still on a break...

He sighed and studied her with great weariness.

"Can we... take a break from the break?"

"Are you serious?"

"Very. I miss you, and I don't want to waste our time together on this. Next time someone does something that seriously pisses me off I'll try my best to just punch them, although that goes against every instinct I have. I just... I just think we could have an amazing summer, and as far as I can see youthful principles are getting in the way of that... Older-me will not thank younger-me for ruining something good."

Realising that this was probably the closest she'd ever get to an apology, Allison tried to gather her wits. 

"What if it doesn't work out? What if we keep arguing?"

"I won't argue," he said promptly. 

She raised an eyebrow, and he chuckled.

"You don't understand what it's _like_ here. Please. Disappear for a while. Trust me, it's a wonderful feeling."

Which was how she ended up on the Eurostar, heading towards France and wondering how a boy could upend her life to such an extent. It was ridiculous - and yet... There was no one else like him. She was running away with the circus with him - how had that suddenly become not just an option, but a sensible one?

Leaning back in her seat, watching the French countryside move past, beautiful and sun-drenched (the status across her social network sites updated to 'Holiday' and her mobile set to go straight to answer phone), she thought to herself that if it didn't work, she could always go back home. However, it was stupid not to give it a try.

***

Later, the summer would consist of a series of standout memories - some bright and clear, others fuzzy from repeated overlays - a collection of unforgettable days, etched upon her mind forever...

\- The campsite itself, the way the different vehicles were always arranged in the same pattern so you couldn't get lost; the familiarity and comfort of the big top; the change that felt like a palpable thing in the air as everyone made themselves ready for the evening's show; washing strung out between wagons on sunny days; children practicing balancing on planks of wood over two chairs, a makeshift pole in their hands or attempting to juggle with well-worn clubs or any other game which could be converted into future skills; Babushka peeling potatoes in the doorway to her little caravan; the smell and sounds of the horses - a million and one little snapshots, a combination of sight and hearing and smell, which together would forever make up 'Circus' in her mind.

\- The sight of Alex, small and slim and perfectly poised, a white sliver against the darkness of the roof of the big top before throwning himself into the void - flying, spinning, twisting; catching and being caught, weightless and impossible and breathtaking.

\- Shared meals with the family, four generations squeezed into the largest camper van, the conversation a mishmash of French, German and English with the odd bit of Russian thrown in, the food reflecting whichever region they were currently in, and the stories told ranging across the whole of Europe with snippets from the rest of the world.

\- Seemingly endless hours spent in laundromats. The towns changed, yet the laundromats were oddly similar wherever they went. The essentials were washed on the go, but the main bulk of the washing was taken to a laundromats - and it often fell to Allison to accompany whoever was on washing duty, which usually resulted in long and detailed discussions as they tried to understand a way of life utterly different from their own.

\- New towns explored with an always enthusiastic Alex, who was much better as a guide when everything was new and unfamiliar.

\- Becoming used to wearing a pretty uniform and answering questions in several different languages. She had, a couple of years previously, worked in a fast food restaurant for a few weeks, and had solemnly vowed to never work in a customer service role again - but selling tickets and balloons and popcorn and candy floss to happy and excited people, being part of something of genuine quality, was a world away.

\- Driving from town to town (mostly in the dark), listening to odd mid-European radio stations or the eclectic mix of music she and Alex had stored on their phones, and thankfully never getting lost thanks to a combination of the family's extensive local knowledge, google maps and Alex's encyclopaedic brain (he'd read some guide books and apparently memorised them).

\- Training sessions in the big top, with Alex and Helena and the other two trapeze artists as happily excited little figures high up in the air, with sunlight - or the greyness of rain - peeping through the tent flaps as the four of them (as well as the injured one, who tried to keep an overview from the ground) tried to tweak the routine or teach Alex new tricks. Or alternatively the acrobatics (which Alex also joined in), something that involved mad things like deciding that they wanted to create a four-person tall pyramid, leading to the 5 year old sitting on the shoulders of the 17 year old, who then jumped onto the shoulders of those on the second tier...

\- Making love in their little home-on-wheels, as the afternoon sun laid like a blanket over the site, and it seemed that the whole world existed within the walls of a 7 year old orange Belgian camper van.

\- Learning the art of sewing on approximately a million sequins without her fingers falling off - the family had a seamstress somewhere, who furnished them with new costumes whenver they could afford them, but alterations and repairs had to be done as and when.

\- A magical evening, when the family - whilst en route from one city to another - decided to meet up at a resting place they knew, where they all ate late dinner together, before quitely watching the darkness deepen and the stars come out, as Alex, voice soft with some emotion Allison couldn't place, started naming them one after another, the whole of the dome of the sky lit up with tiny bright lights; and Allison felt as much in awe as she ever had in the Planetarium.

\- And more than anything, _Alex_. (Or, as everyone called him - Alexei.) She had never quite understood what he meant about university curbing him, but in the freedom and challenges of the circus he thrived and blossomed in ways she found hard to put into words. Mostly he was just _happy_ , a deep satisfaction surrounding him in an unbreakable shell, something he'd now again try to explain ("It engages _everything_ : Mind _and_ body, and timekeeping is of the _utmost_ importance. And it's always new and fresh and _real_ , yet it's so tightly controlled that you can't deviate by a split second or the whole thing collapses. Everyone is relying on everyone else..."), and she would just smile and nod, because the sheer joy was so infectious. There were no mood swings, no self-pity, no arguments, and - more surprisingly - no particular showing off. It truly was perfection in a bubble, and she was beginning to dread the end of the holidays, no matter how much she looked forwards to actual _learning_ again. Cambridge would also mean a return to the real world, and to all the issues they'd avoided - and to a 'caged' boyfriend. Much as she still thought he needed to be taught a lesson, she couldn't deny that she much preferred him when he was free...

(She mentioned it, somewhat wistfully, as they got ready for the party the family were throwing on their last evening, and he smiled a smile she'd not seen in several months and said "He can't stop me _thinking_ " - before quickly shaking his head and apologising. But the damage was done... She could feel the weight of May Day settle once again, and wasn't sure what to do.)

The party was marvellous of course, with plenty of good food, stories and music, and exchanges of gifts - but as things wound down and people said goodnight Babushka surprised Allison by taking her hand as they were about to head back to their own van. Babushka was possibly of Russian lineage, and somewhere in her 80s, maybe 90s. She was a comforting and stabilising background figure, someone whose circus/performing blood ran back to the genuinely old days. Looking from Allison to Alex she smiled an oddly secretive smile.

"You have become like part of our family. As a present now you leave... I could read your future?"

Once more Allison felt as if she had stumbled into a real-life story, hardly able to believe her ears.

"Of course - we would be delighted!" she answered, before seeing the oddly stifled smile on Alex's face. 

As Babushka walked off, she grasped his hand.

"Come on - it'll be fun."

But 'fun' seemed to be the last thing on his mind, as he looked at her with the strangest, most apprehensive look she had ever seen.

"I fear too early: for my mind misgives some consequence yet hanging in the stars," he whispered, and she had to stop herself from throwing her hands up in the air. When he started to quote literature - not to mention Shakespeare - he was in serious danger of disappearing off to never-never land. The only way forward was to ignore him - _she_ would enjoy her last evening as long as she could, and so would he.

Babushka's caravan was cosy and cluttered and like something out of a movie set, and as she pottered about, clearing her table and asking whether they wanted a bit of cake, Allison felt more than a little thrill go through her. She hadn't even known that Babushka also acted as fortune teller, and half expected her to bring out a glass globe. As it turned out she used tarot cards, which was almost better. Allison eagerly volunteered to go first, and discovered that she had to shuffle the cards herself - something about transferring her energy. 

Once done, Babushka carefully laid out the cards - old, old cards, the colours faded and the edges frayed - and it was all entirely too wonderful for words. The images and particular arrangements made no particular sense to Allison (apart from the sort of basics she'd picked up from films), so she waited for the old woman to pore over them, nodding sagely to herself. A small lamp lit up the table, leaving most of the rest of the caravan in cosy semi-darkness.

"Good. Very good," she said, and then began speaking. Her English wasn't particularly fluent, but she told Allison that she would go on a long journey, that she would be loved by a good man, that she might or might not have children (the cards were unclear) and that she would win great renown. Allison felt immensely satisfied - a touch predictable, but still. It really was just like something out of a movie...

Then it was Alex's turn, and he still seemed immensely unwilling to co-operate. Having shuffled the cards he handed them over with visible reluctance, but as Babushka laid them out her hand almost faltered now and again. Allison was intrigued by this, and indeed the elderly woman took a long time to study the cards, the tension growing as Alex bit his lip. Allison thought it was marvellous. 

Finally Babushka lifted her eyes, a wry smile twinkling in her eyes.

"Alexei... Ah yes, I see. You truly are Alexei Tsesarevich. Son of Empire, Child of the stars. But hiding."

This was more like it - Allison leaned forward to try to study the cards more clearly. She knew that 'Death' was supposedly a good card, meaning change and transition, and whilst there was a bit of that, and some 'Lovers' (which made her smile - the very same card had turned up in her own reading) as well as a good few Kings, the main theme seemed to be 'the Magician' - which were men with wands and an infinity symbol over their head. Whatever that meant. He was certainly good at appearing magical.

"I see long life and great love and mighty deeds and travels too vast to measure. But... your destiny. Ah your destiny. It is-"

"I don't have a destiny," Alex interrupted curtly, and when Allison looked up she saw that he had gone very pale. She didn't have time to ponder this, as Babushka continued unaffected.

"Your destiny is to rule. There is no mistake. Much power, much much power, it will light the sky - shining. All the worlds will know your name. And you will be... Not Alexei. No. English name, what is the English name..." She looked up, fixing Alex with eyes so keen and bright they belied her old and wrinkled face: "Alexander the Great. A Mighty King and Ruler. Yes. _That_ is your destiny."

Abruptly moving backwards, as if slapped, Alex nearly fell off his chair, before leaping to his feet, as Allison stared at him, shocked.

"No. No, you are _wrong_. You read it wrong. This _can't_ be it!"

She smiled gently, and shook her head.

"Child - my cards have never deceived me. They have not done so now. Your future is great, I have seen it."

Alex at this point looked like he was going to burst into tears, sinking back into the chair, hopelessness written in every line of his body - then a second later leaning forward, hands grasping the table so hard they turned white.

"Please - _please_ Babushka, find something else. This _mustn't_ happen. Oh there _has_ to be something else..."

Unhurried she began to gather up the cards, momentarily inclining her head towards him.

"I told you everything I have seen, and I am honoured to have met you, Tsesarevich - child born to rule."

"You're welcome," he muttered tonelessly, letting go of the table and looking ahead into nothingness, face blank. After a moment he lifted his head, studying Babushka who was now busy tidying the cards away in a drawer.

"Just... don't tell the others. I don't want the family to know. None of it - please?"

She nodded acquiescence, and Allison felt like she'd been in a play that everyone else had rehearsed except her. Deciding that it was probably time for the show to end before her boyfriend lost _all_ his marbles, she stood up.

"Well you can tell them about me. _Thank_ you. I think that's probably what Alex meant too, he's just forgotten his manners."

Somehow she managed to say their goodbyes and get her now completely silent boyfriend out the door - the bustle of a city at night could be heard in the distance, but the camp site itself was mostly quiet, with only peeks of dim light from the different caravans. As she took his hand and made her way towards their own camper van, he suddenly stopped, letting go of her hand, and when she turned, he looked at her as if from some vast distance.

"A different time line. The cards could have seen a different time line. That would explain it. Right?"

She stared at him for a long moment. 

"OK, first of all: You are now talking sci-fi gobbeldy-gook. Secondly: The cards didn't 'see' _anything_. They're _cards_. Little bits of coloured paper. And little bits of coloured paper should be enjoyed, but not taken seriously." 

She shook her head.

"I can't understand why you're so rattled, or what exactly happened to you in there - I thought you were a scientist. Are you not feeling well, or did you have too much of that nice wine?"

His demeanour didn't change at all, except his eyes narrowed a fraction.

"Not scientist. Renaissance man. And there is _so_ much more to the world than cold hard facts... Jack knows-"

She tried to stifle a sigh.

"No, listen Allie - Jack knows a little girl who is not a little girl, who can tell the future. She is never wrong. Ever."

Allison was beginning to thoroughly loathe sentences that began with 'Jack knows' (or 'Jack says' or 'Jack did'), because it always meant that whatever-it-was could not be argued with, since Alex generally regarded Jack as the be-all and end-all of everything and a fount of endless knowledge. Taking a deep breath she tried her best to tackle this latest challenge.

"Fine. Let's for arguments sake say that there's a freaky little girl somewhere who can actually tell the future. How does that prove that a little old Babushka in Central Europe can do so too?"

He opened his mouth, but didn't seem capable of making any kind of sound. She tilted her head in her best impression of her mother. 

"See? Logic wins the day. It's all a storm in a teacup..."

Reaching out, she realised that he was shaking.

"Alex? What's the matter?"

He was never cold, and it was a balmy evening. 

"Wouldn't you be affected if someone had just laid out your worst nightmare in front of you?" he asked, possibly aiming for flip, but missing spectacularly as the look in his eyes spoke of something more - she'd never seen him cry, but it could only be tears blurring his eyes now. And she realised that he really truly had taken the reading seriously, to a degree she couldn't quite wrap her head around.

"Let's get you a cup of tea," she said (it was the only thing she could think of) and he nodded. 

As she boiled their tiny little two-cup kettle a moment later, she took a moment to fetch a blanket for him, as he was still physically shaking; a strangely silent figure huddled on their sofa bed. What had initially seemed like a lark, had apparently - unlikely as she still regarded it - managed to cause some kind of genuine shock. 'Worst nightmare'... His worst nightmare was to become a king? No, he could never be normal, not even when it came to things to be scared of. The words nearly tripped up her hand as she added the milk. _Scared_. He had been - was - genuinely scared. Terrified even. Pleading. Desperate. Whatever had just happened, it had been something much deeper than a silly card game, because she had never seen him like this, never had the slightest indication that there was anything he _could_ be scared of... Because this was a million miles away from self-pity.

"Here you go," she said, handing over the tea cup, and he took it with both hands, not even looking up.

Sitting down next to him, she waited until he'd managed to get the shaking under control, then asked, as gently as she could: "Please... What just happened?"

For a long moment he was silent, looking ahead, then he sighed.

"I don't know. I'm trying to work it out..."

Emptying his cup, he finally turned to look at her.

"That probably doesn't mean what you presume. I... don't see the world like you do. It's impossible for me to just dismiss what happened as unreal. How to explain it... Have you seen Donnie Darko?"

"Once," she said, and he nodded. "Remember how he sees sort of 'action waves' coming from people showing where they're about to go?"

"Yes," she answered, by now thoroughly baffled, and he continued.

"It's a bit like that. OK, I don't see weird watery blobby arrows - that bit is just weird - but I can see the _consequences_ of things. Actions. I look at you, and I can picture almost every possible future. The ones where you leave me tomorrow, the ones where we slowly drift apart, the ones where you stay with me until you're old and grey, the ones where you leave me because of work... And the ones that are still only maybes - maybe you meet someone else, maybe I do, maybe you get run over by a bus - not to mention all the unknown unknowns, the black swans, that I know I can't know, but that I still try to prepare for... And every time something happens to us, it causes some avenues to be closed off, and others to open. Does that make sense?"

She nodded, still not sure where he was going with it all, but he kept talking, voice careful and searching.

"Now if someone came along and said that we would end up as bitter enemies, I would be very upset. And I would try to look at all the paths that would take us there and wonder which one it could be, and if I could somehow do something to prevent it. That's what tonight was... Except so much worse."

He shivered again, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. 

"I can't let it happen," he whispered. "Can't."

"But Alex... Wildly unlikely as it is, what is so terrible about being a king? I don't... I just don't understand. Most people have silly dreams about what they'd do if they ruled the world."

He tried to shrug, causing the blanket to slip, and he pulled it back up without thinking, simultaneously setting the cup down on the floor.

"Objectively there's nothing wrong with being king. It's not the word that frightens me, or the responsibility, or anything like that. What scares me is... me."

He shot her a look both heartbroken and wry.

"I'm my own worst nightmare. Psychiatrist field day, and then some, I know, but it doesn't stop it being true."

A long distance stare, as he grasped hold of his pendant (had he been wearing that earlier?), absentmindedly twisting it round and round as he spoke.

"I know I try to make light of my name, do my best to take the sting out of 'Alexander the Great', but still that is what my father named me, and it is who he wants me to be. He is only waiting - waiting for the day I decide to grasp power. It is possible - unlikely, but possible - that tonight was his work: Insert a prophecy into my life so I'd feel compelled to go down that path."

She waited for a smile that never came, then shook her head in disbelief.

"And now you are taking paranoia to new heights, you know that, right?"

"You don't know my father," was the curt reply. "It's _exactly_ the sort of thing he'd do. I can't see _how_ , but it'd fit... However, I can't count on it being just his manipulation. Or 'just pieces of card'. Or some kind of mad coincidence... 'Child of the stars'... How did she know?"

"Alex. You spent half an hour naming stars only a few weeks ago. You've been calling yourself 'Alexei', and I'm sure they're aware of your notoriety, even here. Babushka is a lovely person, but everyone loves a captive audience... She saw how you reacted and went with it. Like... Derren Brown."

He looked at her the way someone would a child.

"That is one possibility, yes. But only one amongst many. This is what I'm trying to explain. I see _all_ the possibilities. And I can't discount any of them. That is my gift and my curse - I am incapable of lying to myself. Maybe... Maybe that's why I lie so much to others - it's a luxury I can't have."

He chuckled joylessly.

"Oh, who am I kidding, I just like to control people - it's simple and easy and I _can_."

He buried his head in his hands once more, not moving for a long time as she watched him silently, not knowing what to think.

"Remember that photographer?" he finally said. "How that whole affair hangs over us? It was a one-off, but... Extend that to a world and you should see why I mustn't let it happen. Power is... power is neither good nor bad, is just _is_. The important thing how you use it, and oh, I could do terrible things in the name of good..."

A beat, then a soft smile.

"Jack would stop me. I need to tell him - just in case. But Jack would stop me. If worst comes to the worst it might cause a minor paradox, but that's fixable..."

Allison had a momentary bout of seeing the whole situation as through other eyes, and the absurdity of the thing struck her forcibly. A teenaged boy, wrapped up in a blanket in a small Belgian camper van in the night, terrified that he was somehow destined to go evil like his father and take over the world... Some part of her brain told her that - quite obviously - he wasn't quite right in the head (to put it mildly), because clever though he might be there was no way he could do what he feared. And yet... The situation had miraculously solved her problems, as he had undoubtedly seen the error of manipulation. 

Carefully making him move she got the bed ready, telling him that sleep was important, and he acquiesced without a murmur. Hopefully he'd feel better in the morning...

***

Later that night she was woken by flailing limbs and something that sounded like sobbing, before Alex with a very clear "Jack" grabbed hold of her and pulled her close.

For the first time in her life Allison wished that she'd read some kind of relationship help book, as she didn't have a clue how to respond. However it only took a moment before Alex opened his eyes, studying her in the near-darkness.

"You're not Jack," he said with a frown.

"I noticed that," she replied, and he took a deep shaky breath.

"It was a dream..." he said softly. "Just a dream."

Pulling her closer he kept speaking, his low voice almost disembodied in the darkness of the room.

"I dreamt that I was falling... Falling and falling and falling and I knew if I could just find Jack I'd be OK, but he wasn't there at all..."

A sniffle, as he buried his head in her shoulder, and she could feel that his face was moist with tears.

"I've not had a dream like this in _years_... Small and lost and scared and it _hurts_ and why are they doing this to me? Reliving it all, but it just goes on and on, because that's what dreams are like..."

She felt him swallow, and when he spoke again, there was an unexpected anger in his voice. 

"They never even explained or... _warned_ me - is it any wonder I hate being unprepared? When those who _love_ you hurt you, wouldn't you be wary of the unexpected?"

The words caused a sudden chill to Allison's insides. Maybe he was just talking about a dream. Maybe it was nothing. She should just leave it, he would laugh at her, and yet - and yet her mother had taught her to vigilant against just this kind of thing from a fairly early age, and she'd never been one for staying quiet. 'Reliving it' he'd said, and he'd talked about being small and hurting... It was on one level a ludicrous notion, yet it'd explain a _lot_...

"Alex," she said carefully, relieved the darkness was hiding her, "were you..." she swallowed, "were you abused when you were younger?"

He didn't laugh. He went very, very quiet, then shifted, reaching up to pull one of the little curtains slightly open, his face turning into a mask of muted gold and black.

"That's an... odd term to use. It makes me think of predatory pedophiles and small children used for their illicit pleasure, and it was nothing like that. Nothing at all. But..."

He paused for a moment.

"If you would categorise making a child achieve their full potential at the expense of their innocence as 'abuse'... Then yes."

What could you say to something like this? What had caused this sudden openness? 

"How old were you?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"Eight. Not a very long childhood, really. Not that my life wasn't perfectly happy afterwards, but there was no way to get back what I'd lost. Didn't quite understand it at the time of course, I just knew that I was different..."

"But who-"

('Those who love you' he'd said - but surely that didn't mean...)

A wry look, even though most of his face was now in darkness again.

"Who do you think? The same ones who sent me here."

She must have made some sort of sound, because he chuckled.

"Oh yes, it was both my Uncle _and_ my father. Then and now. Quite formidable when they work together - and even though their aims for me are very different, their methods are sometimes indistinguishable. And I won't behave, much to their surprise." 

He shook his head, and his eyes seemed to harden in the dim light. 

"I _know_ what I am. I understand my responsibilities; accept what I need to be. But I will do it _my_ way, or not at all." 

She wasn't sure what he was talking about - it seemed something different to anything else he'd told her - but, before she could ask, the defiant look in his eyes abruptly gave way to something softer.

"So, because I know you are wondering: That's why I love Jack best. Jack just... accepts me how I am and doesn't try to force me into being one thing or another. I realised, back then, back when I was eight, that he was the only one I could trust, because he doesn't have any motives. My Jack..."

"Alex," she said gently, reaching up and gently touching his cheek. "I... don't know what to say."

"Well... it's all hugely, massively private, and I've never told anyone before - I'm not sure what you should say," he replied with a smile which was far more like his normal smile, and then he did a small shrug. "Besides... it happened, and there's no point in pondering could-have-beens. I am who I am because of it, and I wouldn't change it for all the world."

The words froze her, even as they caused a sudden wave of understanding. She had thought his attitude pure youthful arrogance, but it came from quite a different place. And his family - well, father and uncle - were apparently responsible for that attitude... (What had they _done_ to him? He had a great capacity for melodrama, but he'd been immensely matter-of-fact once he'd recovered from the dream, even downplaying it. But he considered his childhood over at eight years old - she needed to think it all over.) 

As he fell asleep again with his head on her shoulder (the high emotions of the night obviously taking their toll), she wondered at how a single evening could turn everything upside down. He'd been surrounded by a shell as long as she'd known him, perfectly friendly but fiercely private. There had been the odd chink in the armour now and again, unwished for and unwilling, but tonight... The shell had cracked, and she finally understood _why_ he behaved the way he did. It didn't excuse some of it, but it _explained_ it, and her scientific mind was at rest. Also - it seemed as if the tarot reading had done what his uncle's punishment was unsuccessfully trying to: Teach him restraint. (Although if it was both his father _and_ his uncle who had sent him away to Cambridge... What could he possibly have done? But that was a question for another time. Her mind was too full of revelations for now, to even think about asking more questions.)

She kissed him gently on the temple, and contemplated the next two years with more optimism than she had in a long time. She had her Alex, and although she now knew that he wasn't just brilliant, but also damaged and not quite as sane as he thought himself, it only confirmed her initial assessment: Underneath everything he was achingly human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything I know about the tarot I've learned from the internet, so please excuse any glaring mistakes. But this is so _Alex_ that it literally took my breath away:
> 
>  **The Magician**  
>  "He consciously creates reality through his will and imagination. As an alchemist and transformer, he epitomizes the ability to translate ideas into action. He relies on self confidence, power, and determination to see him through. 
> 
> The astrological counterpart of the Magician is Mercury, the planet of mental agility and quickness. He symbolizes creative intelligence, psychic discovery, new beginnings, and the realization that with desire, intent, and focus, all our dreams are within our reach."


	12. Chapter 12

_Cambridge, start of the new term, Autumn 2026_

The ADC Theatre bar was nicely full, and Allison weaved her way through the chatting groups towards their regular table, pleased to see that nearly the whole gang was there. 

She managed to secure the last armchair, and waved to the others, all of them busy listening to Mike who was relating his summer adventures as an intern with Google (part of his obligations as a recipient of their scholarship was a duty to be an intern - thankfully this was something he relished, rather than resented). Even better (from Allison’s point of view) was the fact that apparently he’d started to date one of the other interns and hopefully would now no longer pine after Chelsea.

When Mike’s tale came to an end, Chelsea turned to Allison eagerly.

“So, what did _you_ do? You seemed to fall off the face of the Earth, no one knew where you were...”

“Allie and I-” said a voice behind her, “ran way with the circus.”

Turning she looked up at Alex, who winked and said “Budge up, Love”, before looking round the others.

“Oh my god, you made up!” Chelsea said, almost clapping in delight, as Alex, still smiling and eyes dancing, walked around the chair and, when Allison got up, seated himself and placed her on his lap.

“Well you can’t be mad with someone for very long when they’re a circus star,” he said glibly, and this of course released a barrage of questions.

There was a part of Allison which told her that she shouldn’t go along with his carefully edited version of their summer, and yet... And yet, she understood the need for subterfuge now. There was no way they could tell the truth after all - it was far too odd and private.

Jamie, who happened to pass by (hir hair was an odd, metallic blue), didn’t join in the questions, but instead shot Alex a warning look.

“Alex? If you start doing acrobatics or juggling the glasses, I will personally throw you out the door.”

“Jamie! Good to see you - and on form as usual.”

Jamie winked and went hir way, as Alex pulled out his phone to share some of the footage Allison had taken of him ‘flying’. 

She watched him, and marvelled. She’d seen the clouds settle as they got closer to England again, seen the weariness, seen... oh so many things, and yet the show he was putting on now was no less of a feat than those he’d done up on the trapeze in the big top.

It was almost like watching in stereo, especially when she remembered that last evening - and the following morning.

***

 _The morning after the night before_

He woke her up with waffles and tea.

It took her a moment to get her bearings, and he smiled at her beatifically.

“We need to talk,” he said, as - trying to process the presence of waffles - she frowned and ignored him.

“Where did you get waffles from?”

“I made them!” he replied as he with a flourish of his hand indicated the waffle iron she could now spy on the tiny work top of the camper van.

“But... where did you get a waffle iron from?”

“A shop,” he answered, still perfectly calm, and then, when he noticed the look on her face, expanded.

“I got up early to talk to Jack. And since I like waffles, I got a waffle iron. Waffles are good. Like I said, we need to talk. And I thought waffles might help?”

“Thank you...” she said slowly, taking a bite, and the smile on his face dimmed a little.

“When I say talk, I mean about last night. Some of the things...”

Swiftly reaching out, she took his hand.

“Alex... I had no idea about what you went through when you were younger. I can’t imagine how you’ve managed to cope as well as you have.”

For a moment he just stared at her, as if he didn't have a clue what she was talking about, and then made a gesture which could only be described as dismissive.

“Oh. That. It’s... not important.”

Waffle halfway to her mouth, her hand stopped.

“Not important? Alex, you were practically abused!”

This time he didn’t try to hide the wincing.

“Well... yes and no. It’s... complicated. It was also the best day of my life. Allie-”

Oh no he didn’t.

“Don’t you ‘Allie’ me! You don’t get to just dump something like that on me and then _dismiss_ it-” 

She wasn’t even sure what she was saying as she threw her hands up in the air, nearly hitting the tea cup by her side, and he sighed deeply.

“OK. It was...” He stopped, and looked into the distance for along moment, “...it was like a baby bird being pushed out of the nest. And at first it’s just falling, and it’s the most terrifying thing imaginable. But then it discovers that it has wings and that it can _fly_. And _that_ is the best thing in the world. However, it can’t _ever_ return to the nest. It has to fly forever more.”

He bit his lip, letting his eyes return to her face.

“That’s the best I can do when it comes to an analogy. It’s not terribly accurate, but at least it gives a... basic idea. I hope you see why having a nightmare about falling brings it all back. Does that make sense?”

“I guess...” she said cautiously, and he took a deep breath. 

“Good. Because I need to ask something of you. And I hate that I have to do this, but it’s incredibly important. You...” he laughed shakily, “you hold my freedom in your hands. I’ve never asked anyone except Jack to keep my secrets - well apart from Matt and Josh, obviously, but they stumbled into things the same way you did, more or less. Although far less important things, relatively speaking.”

Her brain - already struggling with peculiar metaphors at a time when she would rather be asleep - wilted.

“Alex- are you going to tell me what on _Earth_ you are talking about?”

Slowly pressing his palms together, he closed his eyes briefly.

“You can’t tell anyone about last night. Ever. _Especially_ not my parents or my uncle. I can’t... _begin_ to explain what would happen.”

She looked at him nonplussed, then remembered how _seriously_ he had taken everything. Her very own Mr Peculiar.

“OK,” she replied, and took another bite. 

“Allison!” he said, with more force than she had ever heard, and a second later grasped hold of her face (his touch gentle, but insistent), eyes full of that intensity which had thrown her so the previous night.

“I mean it. _Promise_ me you’ll never tell anyone. Ever. _Please_.”

Looking into his eyes, she thought to herself that she ought to research psychiatrists when they got back. This really was... not normal at all.

“I promise,” she said, as carefully as she could, and he studied her silently for a long moment.

“Thank you,” he said finally, letting his hands fall, before aiming for a smile and failing.

“I’m sorry to be so melodramatic, but it can’t be helped...”

After that day he had never mentioned the tarot session, although he had - for his own peculiar, unexplained reasons - listened to Holst’s ‘The Planets’ on repeat most of the way home, until she’d threatened to delete it from his playlist.

***

 _First day of term, Professor Trinder’s Office_

“You wanted to see me?”

Flawlessly polite as always, the boy had knocked on the door, and then waited for her to ask him to come in before entering.

Studying the most unusual student she’d ever had, Professor Trinder nodded and indicated that he could take a seat on the other side of the desk.

“Ideally I’d wanted to speak to you in the spring, but you appeared to vanish...”

His response was a bright smile.

“I ran away with the circus,” he grinned, and she told herself to ignore any and all attempts at a charm offensive.

“I wanted to talk about your homework - one assignment in particular. I’m sure you know which one?”

His face fell, and she nodded in satisfaction, before extracting the paper from a folder. Apart from the date, his name, and the subject heading, the paper only bore four words:

_‘This theory is incorrect.’_

“Do you care to explain this?” she asked, holding it forward, and he shook his head.

“It’s incorrect. I’m not going to expand on something that’s wrong.”

She tilted her head. The theory had been established a good few years before, and, although it was hardly proven beyond doubt, no one had ever challenged it.

“So... would you know how to correct it?”

He sat for a moment in silence, as if fighting with himself, before sighing.

“Yes, of _course_ I know.” 

“And it didn’t occur to you to share?”

He shook his head vehemently. 

“Can’t.”

Carefully placing the paper on the desk, she rested her chin on her folded hands.

“Listen Alexander. You are without a doubt one of the brightest-”

“ _The_ brightest!” he amended, still looking obstinate, and she closed her eyes briefly.

“I hope you appreciate that it is hard to take that at face value when you refuse to prove it. If you could write out the improved theory I would be happy to help you get it published...”

Once more he shook his head.

“Told you I can’t do that. I’m not allowed to _interfere_.”

It was an odd choice of words, and her eyes narrowed.

“Interfere?”

Looking like any student caught doing something he shouldn’t, he studied her with pure pleading.

“Please Professor, just... Just leave me alone. If I tell you the correct version of that theory, my Uncle will be furious. If you really want it...” he waved a hand. “Ask Luke Smith. He won’t mind working it out for you.”

Curiouser and curiouser.

“I seem to remember you mentioning your uncle before... He’s your legal guardian, isn’t he?”

The boy nodded, unmistakable resentment blazing in his eyes, although it was mixed with a hefty dose of imploring.

“I’m not sure exactly what I told you then, but my being here is basically a punishment. Please don’t make it worse for me by asking me to do something I can’t do without getting into further trouble.”

Professor Trinder slowly leaned back in her chair, trying not to let on how confused she was. Their first meeting a year before had left her with a clear impression of charming cock-sure-ness (mixed in with some father-issues, but that was only to be expected), and nothing since had altered that. She’d expected the non-assignment to be an excuse to show off (what was it he’d said last year - something about trying to bribe her with plaudits?) - certainly not... _this_.

Looking at the kid, clearly deeply unhappy (had there been something about him quarrelling with his girlfriend? No wait, she’d spotted them just the day before, looking as happy and couple-y as ever) she tried to work out what to do now. She could just ask outright what had happened, except that was the quickest route to getting him to clam up completely. Young people needed handling with kid gloves, and this was no exception. Quite the opposite. Time for Plan B.

“Alexander,” she finally said. “I have a proposition.”

His eyes regained focus immediately.

“What kind of proposition?”

“Well, as you are not getting anything out of the course itself - as your non-attendance since Christmas is more than proof of - I was wondering if you’d maybe like to become attached to my research project? As I’m sure you know we’ve made enormous headway since your input last year, and I wouldn’t mind some of that on a regular basis.”

He mulled his over, then nodded.

“That... could be interesting. Would you mind explaining in more detail?”

For along time after Alexander Saxon had left the office, Professor Trinder sat in silence, turning things over in her mind. Something had happened - something that had shaken the boy’s confidence deeply. She wished she knew what it was. And there were the issues with his uncle... Although she’d better leave those alone for now. Going behind the boy’s back would only antagonise him, and that was the last thing she wanted. She’d not had a student like this since Adelaide Brook, and she was suddenly very eager to see him succeed. 

Maybe the girlfriend was the way to go? The girl was top of her class (excepting Alexander of course) and seemed exceedingly sensible. Surely she’d want to help Alex?

But when she asked Allison the next day, the girl looked rather uncomfortable, even as she tried to smile.

“We had a really nice time at the circus. He wasn’t happy to return...”

She shrugged, then added, voice oddly loaded as she shot the Professor a look that was impossible to gauge.

“He can’t fly here, you see.”

It took a moment, then Professor Trinder said a slow: “Thank you Allison” and let the student go, silently pondering what lay behind the words.

At least she now had young Alexander close enough to keep tabs on.

***

The Autumn progressed much like the Spring had, except... 

Except the feeling of seeing in stereo didn’t go away. Allison vaguely remembered Josh saying something about Alex being a caged tiger, but the image she kept being reminded of was a caged bird. And she could _see_ it. See the way he chafed at being stuck; see how some of the banter and smiles were only skin-deep; see how he’d often get lost in thought as a way of escaping...

When she finally mentioned it to Alex, he smiled one of those private smiles that somehow didn’t look like a smile at all, and said: 

“Welcome to my world.”

Realising that she wasn’t sure how to respond, the smile turned warmer, and he leaned forward and kissed her nose.

“Mind you, my world also has waffles and miracles, so it’s not a bad trade overall.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t know about _miracles_... Although possibly miraculous waffles.”

At this he laughed, and they made their way into the ADC bar, then looked around in vain for Matt and Josh.

The owner, who spied them from behind the bar, beckoned them closer.

“They’re in the back. Jamie’s pretty boyfriend got in a fight, and sie’s looking after him.”

“A fight? _Josh?”_ Allison asked, shocked, and the owner nodded grimly.

“Had some new kids in, who’d obviously had a bit too much already. It’s not good for business.... Need to get a bouncer maybe. Just for a while. And that’s gonna cost too.”

“I’ll see if I can do something,” Alex said. “I know some people... Although I suppose we better go see Josh first.”

They found him on a plastic chair in the sparse kitchen, an ice pack held to the right side of his face. Matt was sitting next to him, and Jamie hovering behind him. Sie looked up when the door opened, and smiled.

“Oh look, someone’s here to see my knight in shining armour!”

“It’s not _funny_ ,” Josh bit out, and Jamie patted his shoulder, laughter still in hir eyes.

“Of course it isn’t. You were extremely fierce.”

Josh scowled.

“I did it for _you_!”

Alex walked forwards, and crouched down in front of Josh.

“OK, what happened?”

There was pause, then Matt spoke.

“There was this guy - six foot something - rugby player by the look of him, who came in with a whole group of mates. I think they’d won a big game, they were very merry. Six Foot Guy starting hitting on Jamie, and then - when sie tried to shut him down - began getting... inappropriate. At which point Josh stepped in.”

“Didn’t realise he’d be so fast, considering how drunk he was,” Josh said ruefully, and Jamie patted his shoulder again.

“Well you knocked him out quite beautifully once you’d recovered from the shock.”

Turning, Josh stared at hir, incredulous.

“How are you so calm? After what he called you-” He swallowed angrily, but Jamie merely looked back, composed as ever.

“I’ve been called worse, and fought bigger. This is hardly my first time...”

Lowering his eyes, Josh leaned more heavily on the hand that held the ice pack, and then winced as the pressure evidently hurt.

“Sometimes I could just go to the 51st Century and stay there, you know? None of these bloomin’ prejudices...”

“Don't run away,” Alex said, concerned, then caught Josh’s eyes.

“Besides, we can make sure that Mr Six Foot Idiot gets what he deserves. Maybe a gym teacher in Wolverhampton would be a good future for him?”

“Sounds perfect,” Josh replied, holding Alex’s eyes with grim satisfaction, and Allison found herself needing to intervene:

“Excuse me, how about _no_? No more manipulating people’s lives!”

Alex sighed.

“Sorry. Allison has spoken, and her word is law. Women, eh?”

“I beg your pardon?” she asked, and then glowered silently when she realised that she’d fallen for his bait.

“Allison has a point though,” Matt said quietly, much to Allison’s gratification, and Josh rolled his eyes, then winced again.

“Hey, let me have a look,” Alex said, and Josh cautiously lowered the ice pack, revealing a nasty gash surrounded by a large purple bruise which was already swelling.

“Is it bad?” he asked anxiously, as Alex inspected the injury, and Alex’s eyes narrowed.

“Nothing I can’t fix.”

The relief on Josh’s face was evident, and he bit his lip.

“How soon can you have it better?” he asked, and Alex sighed.

“Afraid you’re gonna have to wait for it all to heal naturally - if there’s any kind of underlying damage I’ll have to sort it that later... Remember, I can’t _go_ anywhere, and I’ve got sod-all resources here.”

Josh’s face fell, and he suddenly looked almost ready to cry.

“But... this could take _weeks_. I can’t go out like this! And it's our anniversary tomorrow...”

“Well them’s the breaks. I’ve got nearly two more years of lock-down,” Alex said, somewhat bitterly, but Josh didn’t react how Allison expected.

The upset seemed to vanish beneath a look she couldn’t quite describe - part calculating, part appealing, part charming, as he studied Alex carefully.

“Oh. I thought...”

”What?” Alex said warily.

“Well you’re...” He paused, held Alex’s eyes, stretching the moment, “ _Alexander the Great_. I thought you could do _anything_... Or at least, that you were going to try.”

Alex shook his head, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“Damn, Jack taught you well. Fine my little peacock, I’ll see what I can think up. Everyone _shut up_ please.”

Seeing the mirrored confusion on Jamie and Allison’s faces, as Alex closed his eyes and put fingertips to temples and thumbs to cheekbones, Matt whispered “He’s going to his mind palace!” and Allison had to bite back a giggle as Jamie mimed ‘They’re all mad’ at her. Although she did remember Alex bringing up Sherlock at some point...

After the silence had stretched for long enough for Allison to consider grabbing a chair, Alex’s eyes snapped open, and without a word to any of them he brought out his phone.

After dialling, he waited for who-ever-he-was-calling to pick up, and then smiled widely.

“Hi Sylvia - could you get me Ianto please? Thank you.”

Another moment, during which Allison slowly remembered that Ianto was Jack's boyfriend, which meant that she almost missed Alex's instructions.

“Ianto? I need you to do me a favour. In the archives, in... Room 24, Shelf 17, you should find item #45XCR. It’s a small, silvery instrument, Vinvocci in origin, and I need you to send it to me as soon as you can. Use one of those courier services - UPS or FedEx or whatever you deem best. It’s mildly damaged, so I’ll need some tools too - get Jack to include some. I’ll need to be able to re-calibrate it to human.”

Ianto’s response made Alex smile.

“Do you honestly think I’d ask for something dangerous? It’s a rather basic skin-modifying implement - to smooth out scar tissue after an operation, for example. And I need it because Josh got into a fight defending the enchanting Jamie, and needs some TLC for his face.”

A beat, and Alex pulled as slightly peeved face.

“Hey, I’m just being a good friend. And by the way, I have a _name_ \- plus, how exactly am I spoiled when I’m forced to ask for _help_ for something as basic as this?”

Mock-pouting, he rolled his eyes, then said his goodbyes, with the added admonishment that Ianto should keep an eye on Jack.

Putting the phone back in his pocket, he smiled triumphantly.

“There you go - Josh I should have you back to normal sometime tomorrow.”

Lowering the ice pack again, Josh shook his head, awe in his eyes.

“Seek and ye shall find... Sometimes I forget-”

“-how good I am at miracles?” Alex filled in, so swiftly that Allison wondered if he was trying to stop Josh from saying something he shouldn’t. But what secrets could Josh know that Alex hadn’t told her? Or maybe it was because Matt and Jamie were there too? 

She was distracted by Josh’s laughter.

“Yeah. You’re my very own miracle maker.”

"That'll do me," Alex said, and Allison _knew_ she ought to say something... But he looked happier than he had since summer ended, and it was probably just some male-bonding thing. 

Besides it was _their_ anniversary the day after tomorrow, and she knew that Alex had something marvellous planned.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter I wrote a minisode/prologue to introduce a new character: [Unexpected](http://elisi.livejournal.com/751909.html). It's not necessary to read it in order to enjoy the story, but I thought people might like it. Also this chapter includes mentions of abuse. (Nothing graphic.)

_One week before Christmas, 2026_

“You know, if I took over the world I could have the trains running on time.”

“Alex...”

“If only I was allowed a car. Seriously, I can’t believe that I’m not allowed one. It’s... _insulting_. Even Uncle had a car when he was exile. It was called Bessie and was totally brilliant. UNIT must have it in storage somewhere-”

“Alex-”

“I know, I know, I’m a _really_ careful driver, but even if I drove at 20 mph we’d still be at your parents’ before this train.”

“Alex!”

He finally turned towards her. “What?”

“If you took over the world...”

Pulling a face, he tried shrugging. “I know, I shouldn’t say that. But really, I could make everything just _work_ -”

She took a deep breath of the cold December air and tried to stop herself from shaking him in frustration. “If you’d let me finish? It’s always ‘If I took over the world’ - but why not try to make an actual difference? You _are_ good at organising - it seems a shame to waste that.”

His eyes widened in horror. “You mean like... politics or civil service or business or....”

“Or something like that, yes.”

“Not now, not ever, that would be like every nightmare _imaginable_!”

“But-”

“Apart from the fact that I’m my father’s son and that his legacy would follow me around everywhere, it would mean... bureaucracy. On every level. Following other people’s rules. And if I _did_ go the whole way, I would just end up murdering my cabinet like dad did. Probably not on the first day, but I’d get there. Please - don’t ever suggest that again.”

Train platforms were not really the best place for serious conversations - especially not days as coldly miserable as this one - but she wanted to at least _try_ to talk about this. He made mules look meek and easily persuaded - how he had become so completely fixed in his ideas at such a young age she had no idea. She wasn’t going to stop challenging him however.

“But you’re good at it. You’ve just spent four weeks being a... supervisor or foreman or whatever at that building site, and I know they’re desperate to give you a permanent contract.”

A bright smile broke through his frown. “Oh, but I like construction and building and creating things. That’s fun. However I’d much rather build my own stuff than help others with theirs. These past few weeks has just been... keeping my hand in.”

She was just about to say something about him being impossible, when there was an announcement over the tannoy which let them know that their train was finally on its way. Alex shook his head.

“I’d also invent better tannoys-” he began, and she abruptly pushed her holdall into his arms. Enough was enough.

“Look after that. I’m going to get myself some hot chocolate. You want some?”

At the tiny little stall, she reflected wryly that at least he could now joke about the whole issue again... For the past many months - ever since that last night at the circus - it had been a huge sore point. She wondered idly where it came from. It was obviously to do with his father, a reaction against him of some kind, although she couldn’t quite work out how.

Blowing on the hot chocolate, she sighed and decided to leave it for the time being. She’d have to find a way of separating the issues somehow, so he didn’t keep getting everything mixed up. Although that would probably take a proper Christmas Miracle, and she wasn’t sure she believed in those.

***

It was dark by the time they reached her parents’, but there was supper ready on the table, and halfway through the meal Ella and Nathan turned up - childless and smiling.

“They’re with their other grandma for the night!” Ella announced, beaming. “We’re going out, but we thought we’d come and say hello first.”

“Have a cuppa,” their mother said, and soon enough everyone was gathered around the table, chatting and catching up, with Jimmy being slightly less annoying than usual, and their father actually leaving to catch up on work, rather than argue about womens’ role in the construction business. (Possibly something to do with the look he received from all the women around the table.)

The talk was flowing freely until the phone rang and Allison’s mother picked it up.

“Hello, Toby,” she said smiling, but - as Toby talked - her face turned oddly quiet, silence falling around the table in response, and eventually she said “Well yes, of _course_. Please don’t worry, that shouldn’t be a problem at all dear...” before saying goodbye and hanging up.

“What is it?” Ella asked, concerned. “Is Toby OK?” 

Their mother tried to smile, still looking oddly shellshocked. “Yes he’s... he’s fine. More than fine, I suppose. He just wanted to double-check how long Alex was staying for, and if...” She stared at the phone, as if expecting it still to be talking. “And if it would be OK for him to bring _his_ boyfriend home for Christmas. He didn’t want to crowd the house too much, he’s such a considerate boy...”

For a moment they all stared at each other, Allison’s overwhelming thought being that this was such a _Toby_ thing to do it was almost ridiculous... Of _course_ he’d only bring up something this pivotal and important when there was some kind of practical reason to do so. A second later the information itself sank in: Her brother was _gay_! Without hesitation she triumphantly stretched out her hands towards her siblings.

“And who was right, eh? Pay up, please!”

Jimmy rolled his eyes and said that he didn’t have any money right now, and Ella sighed as she fished her purse out of her handbag, duly handing over a ten pound note. Allison was still basking in her victory when their mother’s voice broke through:

“Excuse me, but _please_ tell me that you weren’t taking _bets_ on your brother’s sexuality!”

As Allison froze, Jimmy immediately said: “It was Al’s idea!” and she turned to him, furious.

“Don’t call me Al!” Then she looked at her mother, caught between defensiveness and apology. “It was that last barbecue at the end of August - not this August, the year before - and we were a... tiny little bit drunk maybe? And I said something about how Toby might be gay because of never having had any girlfriends, and then Jimmy said that that didn’t mean anything - so _I_ said that he’s never shown _any_ interest in girls, like, _at all_ , and I didn’t know that he could cope with having a girlfriend anyway, because he’s _Toby_ and he’s got enough problems understanding _people_ , nevermind the opposite gender, and that he’s always liked male detectives and stuff and that I thought that this was probably a good indicator, but Ella said that I was just projecting - because remember how Toby and I used to watch detective shows together and I fancied lots of them? - and then I said that I was willing to bet on it, and they said ‘OK’, and... I was right, see?”

She smiled as widely as she could, praying that her mother wouldn’t start fussing further, and sighed with relief when she only closed her eyes and then walked off to tell their father the news.

Ella’s husband - the ever imperturbable Nathan - shook his head and studied Alex, with that amused, conspiratorial look he usually reserved for Amanda’s husband. “You’re taking this well - if you can cope with the madness, I think you’ve got staying power.”

Alex smiled softly. “Oh, I think they’re all wonderful,” he said, voice slightly dreamy, and Nathan laughed and patted him on the back.

“He’s got it bad, Allie - best make it permanent before he can escape. That’s how Ella got me, by the way...”

They all laughed, but Allison realised that Alex had been doing the ‘observing’ thing again, watching them all as someone would a play, letting the conversation blossom around him rather than joining in. Although considering his own family, she couldn’t really blame him.

Then she realised that another ‘outsider’ would be added shortly, and began wondering what Toby’s boyfriend would be like, before becoming distracted when her mother returned and began wondering how exactly they _would_ manage the sleeping arrangements, as the house would be crammed once Amanda and her lot arrived.

Allison - mentally reshuffling people from room to room - came up with a genius solution, and beamed: “Mum! I know. Amanda will need the big guest room, yeah? So what if Toby and his boyfriend go in Jimmy’s room, Jimmy goes in Ella’s old room where Alex is now, and Alex can come in my room!”

Jimmy looked at her outraged. “And why do _I_ have to go in Ella’s room? It’s tiny and purple.”

“Well, it’s the only logical solution,” she replied breezily. “Unless you want to share with me - or with Toby and his new boyfriend?”

A just-a-touch-evil grin topped off the sentence (‘That’s what you get for always calling me Al!’ unspoken, yet loud and clear), and Jimmy scowled as their mother slowly nodded.

“I think that might be the most workable solution, Allie. Thank you.”

Allison stuck her tongue out at Jimmy and then couldn’t help shooting Alex a triumphant look as soon as people’s attention was elsewhere.

They’d be actually _sleeping together_. She could kiss Toby for all the second-hand benefits he was bringing her.

***

Three days later, Toby turned up with Troy, who was so completely not what she’d expected that Allison felt too stunned to say much for a long time. Troy was short, Irish and clearly an inveterate show-off, with curly hair and and tight clothing and a sideline in overt - almost aggressive - camp that reminded Allison of a more bitchy Jedward back when they were young.

(“Sorry about the name, my mum had a huge crush on that guy from High School Musical - luckily I turned out nothing like him, cause that could have gotten awkward - wouldn’t want my mum fancying me!”)

He was - of course - as carefully and thoroughly investigated as any new addition to the family, and he took it well, easily shining as the centre of attention. Yet Allison couldn’t shake a sense of unease. Ella (who’d come over especially) immediately adored him, and Allison could easily see why - Troy was, in many ways, quite similar to her exes. They’d all had that devil-may-care recklessness (and the ASBOs to match) and whilst Troy’s energy was obviously focussed more on entertainment (Jimmy was hanging on his every word, interspersing laughter with ‘You should do stand up! Seriously!’), Allison couldn’t help feel that he was all wrong for her Toby. 

Despite the fact that Toby was two years older, they’d always been close and she’d spent a good portion of her childhood looking out for him. Not that he cared that the world didn’t make much sense, but she had tried her best to make sure that this indifference didn’t impact him negatively. 

It was something of a shock to realise that she still, now, felt protective of him. He’d moved out three years before, and was doing fine, and yet...

He was sitting quietly beside Troy, just watching him with an odd intensity she’d never seen before, and Allison with a strange hollow feeling realised that he was obviously in love. She’d be happy for him, except- except for the impossible-to-ignore unease. Toby needed someone... Someone less brash. Less forceful. Less self-absorbed. Less _Troy_.

“So, the first thing Toby ever said to me was that I was giving him a headache!”

“You still do,” Toby said mildly, and everyone laughed. Allison smiled mechanically, and turned to Alex to gauge his reaction. She’d been too focussed on Troy to think about Alex, and was shocked to realise that he was studying Troy with a look not unlike Toby’s. Not sure what to make of this, she leaned into him, speaking so quietly that only he could hear.

“Alex... If you keep looking at him that way, it’s going to be hard persuading people that you’re straight.”

“Huh?” he said, blinking, before his face slowly cleared. “Oh, I don’t fancy him at all. But I think he might be giving me a headache too. Mentally, I mean, not physically. Mind you, he’s ginger...”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Alex eyes drifted across to Troy again, still oddly distant. “Is there anything more perfect that ginger hair?”

Allison had to stop herself from shaking her head, deciding to stick with the topic of ginger-ness for now. They could discuss _other_ things later, in private.

“Every time I think I’ve got a hang of all your peculiarities, another one crops up and throws me. Is this your way of telling me that I should dye my hair?”

A smile spread across his face as he turned to her, finally focussing on her properly. “Allie, you are perfect the way you are. I don’t want ginger hair for you - I want it for _me_.”

She lifted an eyebrow, studying him critically. “Honestly? It’d look terrible. You’re not like Jamie...”

He shrugged. “I know. Gotta wait for a different face.”

At which point she couldn’t help laughing, and then had to apologise as she’d interrupted a story. 

After that, however, she kept quiet, listening. In between all the stories she managed to piece together a picture, and it wasn’t one she liked. Troy, apparently, had not had a permanent place to stay until Toby asked him to move in - hadn’t had much of anything, full-stop, and there was entirely too much about this that said ‘This guy is shallow bastard who is using my good-hearted brother.’ 

Unfortunately she didn’t have a clue what to do. Her mother was terribly pleased (she clearly saw Toby as Troy’s saviour), and - to her immense frustration - Alex refused to even talk about it when she raised the issue that night as they were getting ready for bed.

“Allie - leave them to it. It’s not your business.”

“But-”

“Not. Your. Business. Or mine. What would you say if Toby came and tried to interfere with you and me?”

“That’s not the same-”

“Oh, ye, it is. And I thought you didn’t want me meddling...”

He shot her a significant look, and she bit her lip, feeling angry helplessness welling up. 

“But he’s my _brother_. And I don’t want him taken advantage of...”

Alex, about to pull off his socks, stopped and sighed. “Sorry, but... that’s not what’s happening. Well, it might be partially true, but it’s much more complicated than that.”

“Because, as always, you know _everything_ ,” she said crossly; but he only glared in response, and then refused to continue the conversation. 

A little later, Allison for the first time realised that there could be a downside to sharing a bed: Specifically - when both of you were too stubborn to make the first move, you could feel far more lonely than if you were in a single bed.

***

The next day Jimmy decided to put up some mistletoe.

Goodness knew where he'd got hold of it, but Allison figured it’d certainly make for an entertaining Christmas. Especially given the way it immediately backfired.

As Jimmy stepped off the chair he'd been standing on, he found Troy waiting, mischievous smile firmly in place. 

"Mistletoe, eh? Give us a kiss then!"

Jimmy, caught off guard, brandished the hammer in his hands defensively, before Troy plucked it out of his hands and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"Don't set stuff up if you can't cope with the fallout," he laughed, as Jimmy - stunned - beat a hasty retreat.

Allison, thrilled, stepped forwards. She had her perfect opening, and she’d be damned if she didn’t take it. “Well, I’m glad you have such an open-minded attitude,” she smiled, and then - before he could answer - put her hands on his face and leaned in, pleased to note that he was looking a little unnerved himself now. "However," she continued, voice low. "If you hurt my brother I will beat you to death with a shovel." 

She planted a kiss on his lips as he stared at her, open mouthed and shocked, then tilted her head. "A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend."

Smiling, she stepped back, only to lift her eyes and see Toby staring at her with undisguised shock and anger, which quickly segued into _that_ look - the one she remembered far too well from when they were younger.

Hello, many many kinds of ‘Oh, shit, I just screwed up big time’.

***

Troy stared dumbly at the empty spot where Toby had just dragged Allison away ‘to have a talk in private’. He wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, although she’d been the first one to speak any sort of language he understood. Slowly he turned and looked at Alex, who with his head indicated the front room.

“They’ll probably be a while. Wanna go sit down?”

“Suppose,” Troy said, still unsure what the hell was going on. As he fell into the sofa he couldn’t help noticing the way Alex was watching him as he seated himself in the neighbouring armchair. Alex had done rather a lot of just _watching_ \- him and Allison both - and Troy found it rather uncomfortable. To be honest he was happy that Allison had just laid the cards on the table - at least he knew where he stood with her. 

After a moment, Alex broke the silence. "You must excuse my girlfriend. She doesn't... understand you at all. Not her fault."

Troy raised an eyebrow. "And you think you do?"

Alex tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "I think I've got a pretty good idea. I could be projecting, of course, but yes, I think I know why you are how you are."

Unable to resist a challenge like this (little rich boy, born to privilege - what the hell could he know about Troy's life?), Troy smiled condescendingly. "Go on then - tell me about myself."

"I think..." Alex hesitated, studying Troy with a look that was in no way triumphant or challenging - quite the opposite in fact. "I think someone hurt you. I think you loved him, and I don't think that you ever - not for a second - thought of it as abuse, even though any onlooker would have said it was."

As Troy stared at Alex in mute shock, somewhere inside his 15 year old self could still hear Mr Hollingsworth's voice - so warm, so reasonable, so rich and mellifluous and mesmerising, the perfect reflection of the man himself:

> "Troy, you're such a _lovely_ boy... Seems unfair that your nature should be so corrupted, but that is the truth, and one should never hide from the truth. Yet you tempt me beyond my will - my very own forbidden fruit. One can’t help but wonder how such luscious pleasure can come from such a poisoned well....” 

He could still feel the desperation; the pain; the soaring heights and soul-destroying burning intensity of that first and singular love...

> (Please, sir, _please_ , sir, don't abandon me, I'll do _anything_. Your fiancée might be a beautiful, talented woman, but she can't please you like I do, can she? Can’t satisfy those appetites that I know are wrong, but that are more sweet than anything I could have imagined. Let me be your dirty little secret forever - I promise I'll never tell anyone, just keep coming to me, please, _please_...)

The memory still made him feel hollow from want and eventual (inevitable) rejection. But he'd learned his lesson then, and learned it well. The kinder, the better, the more decent? The more likely they were to betray you... He’d made a conscious effort to aim for the shallow bastards from then on and to never to apologise for what he was; meeting the world with a sneer, taking what he could and not worrying about anyone else - until Toby. Impossible Toby, who didn’t fit with anything he knew. He was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, because people like Toby only existed on TV and in stories. In real life, you got screwed over and stabbed in the back when you found something beautiful, and pretending otherwise only led to destruction...

And Alex was still looking at him, and he needed to say something, but he couldn't get a word out. How the _hell_ had he known? When Alex spoke again, he answered the unspoken question.

“Sorry if I upset you. But scars are scars, and there is no way that I couldn’t notice yours, being somewhat damaged myself...” 

Swallowing, and knowing it was madness (he’d never told anyone - except when he’d blackmailed the Head Teacher, but that had been something else again...), Troy finally spoke, the words seemingly dragged from him by the improbable Alex who seemed to _understand_ , and Troy had never thought he’d meet anyone who did:

“It was my English teacher,” he said, heart beating, feeling like he was walking out onto thin air like a cartoon character. “In Year Ten. He was... my first. In every way.”

And the air supported him, as Alex tilted his head, studying him thoughtfully. “Was it wonderful, despite everything?”

“...yes. _So_ much yes.”

A slow nod. “My story is very different from yours - it was never sexual - but my childhood effectively ended when I was eight. Not that I was normal before then, mind you...”

Leaning back into the sofa, Alex looked around the festive front room, the multicoloured Christmas tree twinkling in a corner, the photos on the mantelpiece almost swallowed up by elves and handmade decorations that spilled over onto every surface, the evidence of much diligence from a myriad children over many, many years.

“They don’t understand people like us. This family... they love each other without motives, without manipulation, without _using_ each other. Like something from a TV show or a story... I don’t know how it can be real, but somehow it is.” Catching Troy’s eyes again, he smiled in wonder. “This is... the jackpot of families. They have their quirks, but I’m hanging in with everything I’ve got. Imagine this for years and years and years...”

Troy stared at him, trying to wrap his head around the very idea, and Alex impulsively reached out and took his hand across the gap between their seats.

What he was going to say was lost, however, as the door opened and Allison and Toby entered, Allison’s face a picture as she took in the scene.

“Oh, my god, you’ve done it again.”

Alex frowned. “Done what?”

“That thing you do. Just making people... adore you.”

Troy smirked. This was his home territory, and an opening like that was too good to leave alone.

“Afraid of the competition?”

“No,” she said curtly, folding her arms, and his smile widened.

“You should be. I could turn him in a heartbeat.”

Allison - who had a definite talent for looking obstinate - glared at him. “I actually came to apologise, but you are making it _really_ difficult.”

The tension was broken by Alex laughing, as he let go of Troy’s hand with a small wink. “You’re making it feel _just_ like home, death threats and all. Allison, come here and sit down. Everyone’s had a chat and we’re all good now, yes? So let’s see what’s on TV and not worry about it.”

Toby looked immensely relieved, taking a seat next to Troy and lacing their fingers together as Alex started to look for the TV remote. Feeling oddly exhausted (confession drained you, he should know that), Troy folded his legs under himself and leaned his head against Toby’s shoulder, for the first time allowing himself to believe that maybe they had a future.

(He would tell Toby about his past at some point. But not yet. Toby was already - by the very fact of how they’d ended up together - aware of that which still gave Troy nightmares, and without fail soothed the involuntary tremors that followed, kissing away salty tears in the dark of the night... No need to burden him further at this moment in time, by trying to explain something he would have great difficulty understanding and accepting.)

Meanwhile, Alex had found a channel which was showing ‘Miracle on 34th Street’ and Troy smiled in approval. Maybe miracles were real after all... Christmas ones, at least.


	14. Chapter 14

_Christmas 2026 (cont.)_

The next few days were spent getting the last presents, meeting up with old friends, wondering what on earth Alex could be getting her that kept requiring him to go and ‘tinker’ and... slowly learning to adjust to Troy.

Her brother’s angry words had been a bit of a shock (‘You have _no_ idea what Troy’s been through, how shitty a life he’s had. By rights he should be in therapy, except he refuses. And do you know how _hard_ it was to get him to come here - I had to practically force him, to explain that my family was _better_ than that, that they’d just accept him. And then _you_ go threatening him!’) - it hadn’t been a fun moment, oh no.

That evening she’d mentioned it to Alex, who’d smiled softly, and nodded.

“Yeah, even without all the extra stuff, just the basics aren’t good. Born to an unwed single teenage mother in rural Ireland... He’ll have been ‘The Only Gay in the Village’ without the laughter track.”

“He told you this?” she asked, stunned, and he looked at her with that surprised look which meant he couldn’t understand how she was so slow.

“Oh no, but it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”

“But... unwed teenage mum...”

He lifted an eyebrow.

“She called him _Troy_? No way was she older than 16 _at the most_.” A pause, as he seemed to confirm something to himself. 

“Seriously, _so much_ like what Josh could have been.”

“Josh?” she asked, by now thoroughly thrown. “Troy is _nothing_ like Josh!”

Josh was... charming, courteous, and quite captivating if he wanted to be. Flirtatious, true, but in such a gallant way that it never grated. He never overstepped a boundary, never put a foot wrong stylistically. The very opposite of the in-your-face-ness of Troy.

Alex smiled again, but it was a sad smile.

“Josh started out better - his mother is smart and highly educated, he grew up in London - but without Jack to mentor him, and me to look out for him, he could have ended up very much like Troy...” A tilt of the head. “You think it’s easy to grow up bi in today’s world? To navigate preconceptions and biasses and have everyone judge you on your looks? In time, things will get better, but Josh is lucky and he knows it. He’d never even been in a fight until this autumn...”

Remembering that fight - and the aftermath - Allison was suddenly struck by the memory of Josh... _expecting_ Alex to fix things. As well as the way he’d quite shamelessly manipulated Alex, until he’d got what he wanted.

“You’re his... miracle maker,” she said slowly, as that evening’s conversation came back to her, and Alex nodded.

“That I am. Troy never had one, and had to fight battles harder than Josh ever had. Troy, now, is the result of that. But it’s not too late - I'm pretty sure I can fix him.”

Abruptly looking bashful, he dragged a hand through his hair.

“It’s all my Uncle’s influence, that. Finding broken things and wanting to fix them - he’s not called ‘the Doctor’ for nothing. But then - if you _can_... It’s a constant balancing act, but I figure Troy could do with a miracle maker too. He’s off to a flying start with Toby, but Jack and I... We could smooth the path, give him the tools he never had. That’s not... That’s not interfering too much, is it?” 

Swallowing against the sudden lump her her throat, she could only shake her head, before adding, voice still wobbly:

“No. No it isn’t. I think it’s rather lovely.”

How Alex could see straight through someone’s exterior to the damaged centre she didn’t know, but it was a wonderful quality. Even moreso, because he just wanted to _help_.

Sadly, it didn’t make her own appreciation of Troy any easier.

It wasn’t until the evening of the 22nd that they had a bit of a breakthrough. They were all in the front room, watching the end of one of those Christmas dramas that unfolded over consecutive evenings leading up to the big day, when Alex decided he need to double check something to do with her present - some sort of issue that had just occurred to him.

Letting him go, more frustrated and curious than ever, Allison debated whether she should make use of the whole of the two-seater sofa while he was gone, when Troy suddenly came and sat down next to her.

“Can we talk?” he asked, voice low so as not to disturb the rest of the family, and she nodded cautiously.

“Right,” he began, “I know we haven’t exactly hit it off on the best foot, so do you want to start over? I could be the gay best friend you never had.”

Slightly put off by the implications in his words, she couldn’t help but bristle slightly.

“How do you know I don’t have one already?”

He lifted an eyebrow.

“Have you seen your hair?”

She could feel her jaw dropping as she stared at him.

“My _god_ , are you always this rude?”

He smiled winningly, eyes dancing and full of challenge as he gave a perfect camp little shrug.

“Pretty much.”

“But... why? I’m sorry if I’m dense, but...”

His eyes narrowed, and the smile faded.

“People hated me anyway. Might as well give them a reason.”

And as if by magic everything in her mind decided to topple over and make sense. 

“Oh. _Oh_. I see...”

It was what both Toby and Alex had tried to explain, but somehow their ‘you should feel sorry for him’ spiels had only registered on a rational level, not further down. But now she had a key she could _understand_ , and whilst it didn’t make him any easier to _like_ , it explained why he was the way he was.

“Think we could be friends? I’ve never had a proper girl friend, and I like you Allison. You don’t sugarcoat things, and I... appreciate that. Plus, I think we could probably help each other out. The things I could teach you...”

“What do you mean?” she asked, expecting more comments about her appearance, but instead he shot the rest of the room a swift look and, satisfied that they were all engrossed in the events unfolding on the screen, bit his lip before leaning in to whisper in her ear, eyes full of mischief.

His suggestion made her stare at him open-mouthed, and he watched her in triumph, almost leering.

“Alex would thank you for taking me up on the offer I’m sure. I might not know much about astrophysics or anything like that, but I... have other talents.”

“You- you are dating my _brother_ , I can’t know this!” she finally managed, fighting hard to somehow erase the information she’d just been given. And she’d thought last year’s conversation with her mother had been awkward... 

Troy only shrugged, not put out in the least.

“Well the offer is there.”

Allison slowly shook her head, knowing one thing for sure: Whatever else Christmas would bring, it was definitely not going to be dull.

***

The next day Amanda arrived, her gorgeous family in tow. Allison had - ever since Amanda had first brought him home as a ‘friend’- had something of a crush on her husband. Not a debilitating one, but one that refused to budge, no matter that she now had a proper boyfriend of her own.

But then Kingstone Ncube was... quite something. Raised along with his three brothers by a single mother he’d carved out an illustrious career as a City banker, and yet somehow retained his charm and humanity. He looked a good bit like a darker version of Chuka Umunna, and when he smiled, dark eyes twinkling, she had to remind herself to actually listen to what he was saying and not just nod. 

Of course, their two children - Ronia, aged nearly-five and Senwe, three - were too cute for words, and (it went without saying) far better behaved than Ella’s (admittedly younger) monsters. Alex visibly brightened at the sight of children, before proceeding to talk at great length about Astrid Lindgren, and how his favourite book was The Brothers Lionheart. (It was something to do with Jack. Of course. Allison tuned him out automatically and concentrated on watching Toby introduce Troy to Amanda.)

They had ended up in the front room, the children quietly colouring in the new books grandma had got them as a pre-Christmas present, and all the ‘grown-ups’ were catching up, Amanda quizzing Troy and Alex about any- and everything, and both of them withstanding the process rather well - neither of them being outrageous in any way, slightly to Allison’s disappointment.

Amanda then, to Allison’s horror, proceeded to dip into childhood stories. First Troy was treated to the story of Toby going for a walk on his own, aged three, and causing the entire family to panic, and then it was Allison’s turn to cringe as she brought up ‘the Saxon story’.

“ _No one_ has told you this story yet, Alex? Goodness, I find that hard to believe. I was rather surprised when I heard she was dating you, everything considered...”

“Amanda, please stop-”

“Shush Allie, I’m sure Alex is curious.”

Alex tilted his head. “Well now I am...”

Amanda - always with that slight hint of superciliousness - turned thoughtful.

“Well... It does involve your father. I wouldn’t want to upset you.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Try me. I’m not easy to upset.”

After which Amanda, with relish, launched into The Story of the Day Saxon Shot President Winters, with the very special twist that in their family Allison (only a few months old at the time), had gasped out loud in surprise before bursting into hysterical tears the moment the President had been shot and the TV screen went blank - and then didn’t stop crying for nearly 20 minutes.

It was a story that had been told repeatedly over the years, and Allison still found it horribly embarrassing, especially the way people would laugh fondly and look at her as if she was still four months old. It was the story equivalent of baby photos in the bath, and she cringed in anticipation - except the expected laughter from Alex never came. 

Oh Alex smiled, and said something suitably banter-y in response, but Allison knew him well enough by now to see that somehow Amanda had hit one of those impossible to predict tender spots. And for once she was grateful.

When Kingstone cut in with a story from _his_ childhood, Alex - whilst still pretending to pay attention - brought out his phone and silently sent a text. When Allison leaned over to have a look he shook his head, then nodded towards the window where snowflakes were now softly falling.

“Want to go for a walk?” he asked, not waiting for her to answer as he took her hand and dragged her from the room with a brief excuse about a romantic walk in the snow, and Allison winced again at the fond laughter. 

After wrapping up warm they set off down the street - it had gone almost dark by now, and the combination of houses lit up with Christmas lights, and the softly falling snow, was creating a perfect Winter Wonderland...

Alex had taken her hand, and almost without noticing Allison could feel the tension draining. Snowflakes were dancing through the air looking like tiny dots of pure light under the golden cones of the street lamps, their feet were crunching on fresh, just-fallen snow and she turned to Alex, smiling, as she wasn’t even sure how to express the pure - almost childish - joy she was experiencing.

In response he stopped, studying her in silence for a long moment, her own feelings seemingly mirrored on his face... Except then he spoke and she forgot everything she had been thinking.

“Allie,” he said carefully, “you do know that I love you, right?”

Her breath seemed to catch, and she stared at him wordlessly, flakes settling unnoticed.

“I’ve tried not to,” he continued, for a moment looking like he was about to cry. “I’ve tried _so hard_ , but I can’t help it. And I’m sorry if that sounds horrible, but I... I’ve seen what love can do. How destructive it can be. How painful. But then tonight- that story your sister told. I realised that you... could have died back then. If my father’s plans hadn’t been foiled. And I wouldn’t even know you. And I can’t-”

He bit back the rest of what he was about to say, and she could feel her heart beating, trying not to shiver. Swallowing against his emotions, tears still in his eyes, a smile blossomed on his face instead.

“So I need to tell you that I love you. Despite everything, despite all the heartache that might come... I love you. To an extent I am struggling to comprehend. I want...” 

He tilted his head, watching her as if mesmerised by what he saw. It was the same look as was on his face when looking up at the night's sky.

“I want to wreathe your head in stars and make the sun dance in your honour. I want to lay galaxies at your feet and stop time so we can never be parted. I want...”

He shook his head, cupping her face with a cool hand, and she was grateful for the touch, as she’d been unsure whether she was actually awake or dreaming. ‘Not poetic’ he’d said, once upon an eternity ago. Well, she was thoroughly enchanted. 

“Alex,” she began, but he swiftly moved his hand and put a finger across her lips.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said, more earnestly than she could ever recall. “I’m not expecting anything in return.”

He stopped briefly, then continued, searching for the right words.

“You know me well enough to know that I have too many issues to count. This is one of them. And remember we broke up once already... Those issues haven’t gone away.”

Carefully she reached up, took hold of his hand, and briefly closed her eyes. A week could be a surprisingly long time, and she realised that things had... changed. Or rather, her perspective had. 

“Alex - don’t ever worry about that again. Apparently- apparently people sometimes do stupid things when they feel protective.”

_(His hand around the paparazzi photographer’s throat. Her own hands on Troy’s face. Toby’s fury... Like he had just said - love was dangerous. She still didn’t agree with what he’d done, but then he hadn’t agreed with her either, and she still wasn’t sure she trusted Troy with her brother’s heart. So she figured that they were probably about even...)_

And just like that the huge major stumbling block that had been in their way seemed to evaporate. She nearly laughed from sudden joy.

“Which is my stupidly convoluted way of saying that I love you too.”

“Allison!” he exclaimed, looking genuinely distressed. “It’s not funny. I’m so scared... More scared than I’ve ever been. My beautiful, amazing Allie - I’m falling, and don’t know what to do.”

Her impossible, confident love, the cleverest boy in the world - yet faltering at this oh so simple hurdle. She tilted her face to look into his eyes.

“What you do, is that you let me catch you,” she said. “That’s how love works.”

And she pulled him in for a kiss, letting actions speak more clearly than words ever could, as snow flakes softly fell around them, and it was the most perfect moment ever.

They were teased again when they returned, but she barely noticed. Somewhere inside a little voice was singing, the same three words over and over... ‘He loves me, he loves me, he loves me...’ It wasn’t that she’d had any worries, but to have him say it - _declare_ it even, in such a serious manner - it made her both breathless and tingly. 

'He _loves_ me.'

The rest of evening seemed strangely unreal, like she had somehow ended up in a different universe where everything was new and oddly brighter than before. People were talking and doing things as normal (there was tea and Amanda’s kids were put to bed and then telly) but somehow she was still in her happy little bubble. (He _loves_ me...)

She wasn’t really jolted out of it until a small child burst through the door to the front room, heading straight for Amanda’s arms.

At Amanda’s exclamation, Ronia merely buried her head in her mother's lap and cried something about ‘the aliens are going to get me!’

Amanda’s brow furrowed, and she looked at their mother.

“You know that Panorama programme that was on last week, about alien invasions and how prepared we are? _Some people_ apparently let their children watch it, and now the whole of the Reception class has been whipped into a frenzy of terror - you know how kids are...” She sighed. “OK, let’s get you back to bed.”

“Want to sleep with _you_ Mummy! Scared of the aliens!” 

Amanda shot Kingstone a look of near-desperation (Allison hadn’t thought Amanda - the ever capable Amanda - to ever be in need of such looks), but it wasn’t Kingstone who came to her help. 

Before she knew it, Alex had crossed the floor and was kneeling by the sobbing girl.

“Hey there little girl... Not all aliens are bad. Trust me, I know.”

A half-surprised, half-angry eye appeared, studying him with smudged tears.

“Have you heard of Luke Smith?” he asked, and after a moment she nodded.

“Luke Smith is a good friend of mine and his mum used to babysit me when I was younger. Her name is Sarah Jane Smith and she has _lots_ of alien friends.” 

A whole face was now staring at him with undiluted astonishment and scepticism.

“Alien _friends_?”

He nodded firmly.

“You only hear about the bad ones on the news, but that’s a little like how you hear more about terrorists and burglars and political scandals than nice things. There is a whole universe out there, and most of the species are wonderful and marvellous. And they might look a bit funny, but I’m sure your mum and dad have made sure to teach you not to judge people by what they look like, right?”

A cautious nod, as Ronia tried to take in this monologue, and Amanda finally found her voice.

“Alex... I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but...”

Alex looked up, and for a moment Allison could have sworn that he looked genuinely hurt. Or maybe hurt wasn’t the right word... As she tried to put a name to the emotion, he shook his head. 

“I would never lie to a child, Amanda. And you never know - in the future inter-species marriage will probably be as ordinary as interracial marriage is now.”

Allison stared in astonishment. Had Alex just smacked down Amanda? This never ever ever happened...

Indeed, Amanda seemed speechless too, and Alex focussed on Ronia again.

“Here - what do you say that I take you back up to bed and tell you an alien fairy tale?”

“Alien fairy tale?” she asked, her tears forgotten, and Alex nodded. “It’s called Snow White and the Seven Keys to Doomsday. Your mother should approve of it - unlike the traditional story you know, it has a very strong female character.”

“Does she have a sword like in Snow White and the Huntsman?” Ronia asked, a smile appearing as she detangled herself from her mother’s arms and readily took Alex’s hand, and he chuckled, shaking his head.

“She doesn’t need _weapons_ ,” he said, voice rather dismissive. “She has something much better.”

At the look on Ronia’s face he bent over and tapped her forehead. “She has _brains_. Come along, and I’ll tell you the whole story. It takes place a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...”

“Like Star Wars?” Ronia asked, breathlessly, and Alex nodded.

“A bit. Except this planet has red grass and an orange sky. Can you picture that?”

The two of them trotted off together, and Allison felt everyone’s eyes fasten on her.

“Well,” Amanda said, clearly trying to regain her equilibrium, “your boyfriend certainly is something else, Allie.”

“He is rather, isn’t he?” Allison replied lightly, trying to scale back on the smugness she felt. Her boyfriend was brilliant, and he loved her.

***

Christmas Day came and went without any incident; although, to be fair, their family was odd and Boxing Day was the main thing. Allison had impressed this upon Alex a long time ago, and he now responded by refusing to give her her present until the 26th.

She didn’t find this funny at all.

However, the 26th eventually came, and with it the hordes descended. Allison wasn’t exactly sure _why_ the entire extended family always turned up, the origin of the tradition lost in the mists of time, she just knew that Boxing Day was possibly her favourite day of the year.

By 3 o’clock in the afternoon the house was bursting at the seams, food and people in every room and every nook, children weaving in and out of the groups of grown-ups, the Great Wii Bowling Tournament just about to commence, and Allison - busy restocking bowls and plates and bringing out more bottles and loading the dishwasher inbetween catching up with all her cousins - caught a glimpse of Alex and Troy, sitting in the smaller sofa. Troy seemed rather shellshocked, whereas Alex looked so happy she was mildy worried he’d strain something.

However, it wasn’t until 5 - when it had gone properly dark - that he decided to ‘do his thing’ as he called it.

Gathering everyone into the front room (there was space, _just_ ) he switched off all the lights except the Christmas tree, and the curiosity grew as everyone began noticing the large festively wrapped box on the coffee table. 

“OK, everyone,” Alex began, “this is sort of just Allison opening her present, but as it’s a present that I think you will all enjoy I wanted to make a big thing of it. You might wonder what it is that she and I are studying, what ‘Astrophysics’ is - or rather, why we would bother. I hope this will help you understand, and help inspire Allison in the future.”

By now thoroughly puzzled, Allison stepped forwards and carefully unwrapped the box, which turned out to contain a strange machine.

Taking it out and gently setting it on the table, she looked at Alex bewildered.

“What is it?”

He grinned.

“A model of the universe. To scale. Here, let me turn it on.”

He leaned forward and pressed a button she hadn’t noticed, and suddenly the front room turned into a galaxy. The assembled family let out an “Oooooooh” sound that probably made Alex light up like the Christmas tree, except Allison wasn’t paying attention to him. It was a planetarium. In her house. Stars all around her, slowly moving and spinning, and she wasn’t entirely sure if she was still breathing or touching the floor.

After a moment she realised that she might be crying, as Alex put an arm around her and gently wiped away the wetness on her cheeks.

“You like it then?” he said, and she turned to him and unceremoniously kissed him until she had no breath left, ignoring the hooting and whistling from the family. Best. Boyfriend. _Ever_.

When he’d got his breath back, he put a remote into her hands.

“Here, let me show you how it works.”

Perfect boyfriend, and perfect Christmas.

***

_Spring 2027_

Josh wasn’t sure what had happened during the winter holidays, except that both Alex and Allison had declared it ‘The Best Christmas Ever’. Whatever it was, he approved. 

There had been that worrying moment in the summer when they’d broken up, and although they’d patched things up somehow, there’d still been tension - which, for him, had conjured up the worrying prospect of Alex being single and unhappy for the remainder of their university stint, something Josh was apprehensive of not just for personal reasons, but also because Alex was his friend, and he’d rather see him happy. 

But thankfully 2027 was off to a fantastic start. Mind you Alex hadn’t actually told Allison the whole truth yet, but surely that couldn’t be far off now? Josh was beginning to be very tired of secretive aliens.

(He’d gotten in touch with Jack at the beginning of January, just to make sure that everything was _actually_ OK with Alex, something Jack had swiftly confirmed before starting to ramble on about some boy called Troy that Alex had steered him towards. Josh didn’t catch the whole story, but Jack obviously had a new pet project.)

Plus, Allison was very, very good for Alex. Seeing them all content again was marvellous, especially as he had brought Jamie home for Hanukkah and everything had gone well.

His grandmother had approved very much of his ‘beautiful and beautifully polite girlfriend’ (there was no point in explaining what Jamie was, his grandmother wouldn’t believe him anyway), and his mother seemed mostly relieved that he was in a properly committed relationship and not turning into his father after all.

Winter had changed into spring, and Josh felt as if life was unfolding almost too perfectly. Not that he minded. He loved his studies, he loved Jamie, he loved his friends, and the future seemed to be beckoning him with pure delight.

It was a beautiful Sunday morning in April, and there were plans to go out punting at lunchtime. Josh was lounging in bed whilst Jamie was already standing in front of hir wardrobe, trying to work out what to wear, the morning sunshine filtering through the half closed curtains and illuminating hir, giving the whole scene a magical feel. 

Watching from the bed as sunlight carressed shoulders and hips, outlining his beloved against velvet and silk, hir slender curves begging for a touch, Josh felt a sudden sensation of utter certainty. This was what he wanted. This, _exactly this_ , was everything he had ever dreamed about, everything he could ever wish for. The feeling settled down to solid conviction (he’d only felt this way once before in his life, but he still remembered it vividly), and it only took the space of a heartbeat for him to voice his newfound truth.

“Marry me?” he said, happiness like a physical thing he could reach out and touch. _This_ , the two of them, always and forever. 

Then Jamie spun around, staring at him in pure shock, before mutely shaking hir head. And Josh could feel his perfect moment shattering into a thousand pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can read Snow White and the Seven Keys to Doomsday (the official version) [here](http://www.flickr.com/photos/combomphotos/6243113799/#/) and [here](http://www.flickr.com/photos/combomphotos/6243113683/in/photostream/).


	15. (Interlude featuring Jamie)

_Spring 2027_

‘Marry me?’

The words hung in the air, unavoidable and impossible, and Jamie could only shake hir head.

Sie watched Josh’s face fall, hurt in his eyes, and tried smiling:

“Please don’t do that again, it’s not funny.”

Josh shook his head, obstinacy raising its head.

“I’m serious. Jamie-”

“Stop! Why are you doing this?” Jamie bit hir lip, trying to get hir emotions under control. They were happy, why did Josh have to ruin it?

And Josh was now studying hir as if sie was mental. Great.

“Why are _you_? Don’t you love me?”

Jamie closed hir eyes, gathering strength.

“Of course I love you, don’t be stupid.”

“So, why are you being like this? I love you too, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. That’s _normal_.”

“Josh...” 

(Why did it have to hurt so much? Why oh _why_ did he have to ask... )

“You are _twenty years old_. You have your whole life in front of you...”

“And I want to spend it with _you.”_

He was so sure...

“You can’t know that.”

“Of course I can!”

“Listen... you are... brilliant and wonderful. Extraordinary. You will achieve incredible things and I don’t want to get in the way of that.”

Josh now looked simultaneously confused and annoyed.

“Jamie, you would never-”

“Yes I would. You said ‘normal’ and I am very very far from that. Heck, we can’t even have children. And what if people found out what I am?”

“Jamie-”

“ _I_ don’t even know what I am. I could be dangerous for all we know!”

A deep sigh, as the boy in hir bed buried his head in his hands, so young and beautiful that sie hurt all the way through.

“Not the alien thing again.”

“Yes. The alien thing. If you want to... talk about all this _now_ , then we can’t ignore the elephant in the room.” 

Sie smiled bitterly. “You deserve better than me. You deserve someone you can trust, someone you can _know_. Someone you can have a proper life with.”

It took a lot for Josh to lose his temper, but Jamie had apparently hit the magic button.

“ _Dammit_ Jamie! _My best friend_ is an alien, this is not exactly new territory for me!”

In the silence that followed Jamie could only stare, as Josh put a hand over his mouth, eyes growing huge.

“Alex... is an alien?” Jamie asked slowly, trying to take this revelation on board, and Josh nodded, before lowering his hand, looking distinctly paler than he had a moment before.

“Yes he is. And he’s probably going to kill me now, as he’s even more paranoid about people finding out than you. But since I’ve told you, I can also tell you that he is _so_ much more alien than you. I wouldn’t swap with Allison for anything in the world.”

“Really? You don’t even know what I am, how can you know he’s _more_ alien?” Jamie said, not bothering to hide hir scepticism. Despite his eccentricities, Alex was an outgoing, gregarious character, easily liked by all and without any seeming effort coming across infinitely more normal than Jamie could ever hope for, even if sie’d wanted to. 

Josh’s face hardened, and then he abruptly reached out for his phone.

“You seriously think the alien thing is the main obstacle? Well, let’s find out what you are.”

Tapping the phone to life, he held it to his ear, as Jamie stared, unsure what he was doing.

“Jack? Is this a good time? Excellent. Jamie is half-alien, we would like know what kind. Could you come pick us up immediately?”

Tossing the phone back on the bedside table, he smiled triumphantly.

“There. Should get that sorted in no time.”

Jamie could only stagger in shock. Jack was Torchwood. Torchwood _killed_ aliens. Had Josh gone _mad_? Somewhere, distantly, there were feelings of absolute panic and terror and betrayal, but sie couldn’t even think clearly enough to process them. 

‘They’re coming for me,’ sie thought dully. ‘Sorry mum. I tried. At least I lived to 25, that’s not that bad...’

Slowly sie lifted her eyes to look at hir traitor, hir beloved... And realised that he was right in front of hir, hands holding hir face, talking.

“Jamie? _Jamie_? Talk to me! It’s fine. You’ll be fine. Jack is...”

A sudden grin, so at odds with everything that Jamie couldn’t help but focus.

“Jack is a time traveller from the 51st Century. He’s probably part-alien himself, and has had more alien lovers than he can count. He’ll _help_ us. Trust me.”

He didn’t get any further, as Jack’s cheery voice suddenly rang out in the flat, and Jamie thought that ‘I’m going mad’ was quite a suitable theory to go with for the time being. Had sie actually passed out for... several hours? Cardiff was far away...

“Ladies and gentlemen and variations thereupon,” Jack said, before appearing in the doorway, “One trip to Torchwood as requested!”

Taking in the scene - as well as their state of relative undress - he raised an eyebrow.

“Now... should I come back later, or am I allowed to join in?”

Josh bit his lip and sighed.

“No, we’re just getting dressed. Be ready in a mo’.”

Jamie, however, could only stare.

Jack grinned winningly and held up his left wrist, exposing the wide leather strap around it.

“Teleport. Comes in handy.”

Looking from one to the other, Jamie wasn’t sure what to do or say, as the world was clearly going topsy-turvy (What next? Wookies?), and Josh smiled.

“See? Everything is going to be fine!”

Not ready to part with reality just yet, Jamie shook hir head, emotions still in a jumble.

“And what if it isn’t? What if I’m dangerous? What if- Josh, he’s _Torchwood_.”

Before Josh could answer, Jack spoke again, although this time his voice was calm and quiet, without a hint of the mischief Jamie associated him with - showcasing the steel sie’d known had to be below the surface.

“If you _are_ dangerous, may I suggest that it’s best to discover this now, rather than to wake one morning and find that you’ve killed the man you love?” 

A beat, then he added. “That has happened. So, better safe than sorry I think.”

Swallowing, yet abruptly determined to see it through, Jamie nodded agreement, as Josh stared from one to the other.

“Jack, you can’t be serious-”

Jack’s face softened, even as he shook his head.

“Just get dressed. Remember, we have Time Lords on speed dial.”

This cryptic comment seemed to make Josh relax, and a few moments later (Jack tactfully withdrew) they were both dressed and ready to go.

Jamie had gone for dark purple and black (matching hir hair) as a suitable colour scheme, not feeling in the cheeriest of moods - black trousers and long top, dark purple jacket - clothing that also happened to be as androgynous as sie could get, which made hir quietly pleased. Josh, however, had chosen something oddly retro - a white shirt and waistcoat paired with faded blue jeans, and on top a tan jacket. Jamie didn’t think it was fair that he made himself look quite so irresistible considering that they were in the middle of an argument.

Then came the actual teleportation, which Jamie hadn’t quite believed in, except there was a bright flash and suddenly they were in what sie presumed was some sort of underground cavern - the dirty tiling made it look like the London Underground, except for the sheer height of the place. A water fountain rose up into darkness, but the more immediate surroundings were dominated by technology - some familiar, some that looked like something out of Star Trek. Especially the large structure in the middle of everything, all-over wires and bits of steel and blinking lights that seemed to trail stray pieces and cables over any available floor space.

More immediately, they were faced with a small asian woman in a bright pink sari, who looked so out of place that Jamie once more began to suspect sie was dreaming.

“Hello,” she cooed, shaking their hands. “You must be Josh and Jamie, right? Oh, how gorgeous you both are! Welcome, and sorry about the mess. Ianto does his best, bless him, but we’re in the middle of testing some new equipment as you can see-” she waved towards the tangle of machinery with a vaguely apologetic air, before immediately continuing. 

“You know, we’ve not even had breakfast yet, Jack is a _terrible_ slave driver, having us work at weekends. However, I made some scones that we were just about to tuck into. Come sit down, you’re more than welcome to join us, plus you look like you could do with feeding up - students, right? They never eat properly, I tell Alex this every time I see him, he _needs_ to start eating properly... I’m Afsana by the way...”

Pushing them towards a battered sofa, she vanished - still chattering - as Jack indicated defeat and grabbed a chair.

“Better do as she says. Besides, she’s right about breakfast. I’m famished.”

Which is how they ended up around a small table, laden with scones and the best coffee Jamie had ever had, along with the rest of the Torchwood team.

The rest of team being Ianto (whom Jamie had already met once, although briefly), Nathan, a quiet, youngish doctor with receding hair, and a rather formidable-looking woman called Sylvia (who seemed to turn every conversation around to feminism). 

Despite hir continuing discomfort, Jamie couldn’t help but bristle, and was just about to say something about women having a charmed life compared to, say, the transgendered community, when Jack put down his coffee mug and said, so casually it almost didn’t register:

“So Jamie - let’s hear your story.”

Momentarily blind sided, Josh urged him on.

“Just tell them what you told me - well, the basics.”

So, heart beating and cup clasped tightly in hir hands to stop them shaking, Jamie told the story of hir mother’s one-night-stand. They all listened in silence, only Jack cutting in now and again to ask clarification on certain points - such as the fact that Jamie’s mother had never felt anything untoward during the pregnancy.

“Do you have a date?” he finally asked. “For when your father was run over?”

Jamie shrugged.

“I’m not sure of the exact date... It was a maybe a month after their night together? She only found out about it later...”

Jack’s eyes narrowed.

“Ianto - check all aliens brought in between January and April 2002. Filter for humanoid-looking males.”

With only a nod, Ianto picked up the tablet he’d put down, and with a few taps he seemed to have located something that made him pass the tablet onto Jack.

“This one looks promising, sir. Attempted to gain access to the Hub using extra-terrestial equipment, shot by Suzie Costello in the line of duty. Death notice in the paper read car accident. And please note the photo...”

Jack took the tablet, and whistled softly.

“Jamie? I think we’re onto a winner.”

He turned the tablet around and Jamie couldn’t help but take a sharp breath.

The face, although deathly white and pale, held features that sie saw every day in the mirror. The determined chin, the tall cheekbones... Sie could feel Josh grasping hir hand, as 25 years of Not Knowing were toppled.

“Would you like to see him in the flesh, so to speak?” Jack asked, and Jamie could only stare. The man in the image was very clearly dead. Shot, so they’d said...

The doctor - Nathan - cleared his throat and said, very gently: “We... store everyone who dies. Both aliens and staff. And in order to determine what kind of alien your father was we will need to do a scan, as this was clearly not established at the time.”

There was a slight hint of reproachfulness in his voice, and Jack shot him a dark look.

“We were only two. You try to catalogue everything with that little staff.”

“Bay 47,” Ianto said, at which precise moment an alarm went off and the entire team sighed deeply.

Fingers dancing over the tablet, Jack swiftly issued orders.

“Sylvia and Afsana - you’re field duty this week, get going. Ianto, you are the new designated driver. Regular reports please. And bring the big guns just in case.”

Within what seemed to be only seconds, the three had left, hefting weapons that looked like something out of a sci-fi show, leaving Jamie and Josh to stare after them rather stunned.

“Right, Bay 47,” Jack said, and they set off, Nathan fetching some weird instrument on the way that he explained was the aforementioned scanner. 

Bay 47 looked like all the others, a wall covered in drably coloured drawers, but Jack went straight for one in particular and pulled it out. (Jamie didn’t want to think what that nonchalance meant. Although if Jack had been working here since at least the turn of the century, that meant a minimum of 25 years of dead bodies...)

And then sie was looking at hir actual, physical father. Fascinated and disturbed in equal measures, sie tentatively reached out, and Nathan nodded assent.

“What... what was he?” sie asked eventually, as the scanner made a beeping sound, and Nathan frowned.

“A hybrid, as far as I can tell...”

Jack came and looked over his shoulder, and after a second’s consideration abruptly snapped his fingers.

“It’s an Arcateenian. Like Tosh’s girlfriend... It was hiding inside a human.” Eyes snapping up to Jamie’s face, he expounded:

“The Arcateenians are a highly telepathic race. Your father was an ordinary human, but the Arcateenian must have crashed their ship or something, and then it took over the first person it met. So...” 

His eyes narrowed, studying Jamie with an unnerving intensity.

“I am not sure what that makes you. You are something... new. Something I didn’t know was possible. Half-human, half-Arcateenian... Although you’re highly telepathic, so I guess it makes sense.”

“But what _is_ an Arcataeenian?” Jamie asked, by now thoroughly disturbed, and Jack, with an odd smile, tapped a few commands into the tablet he'd brought.

“Here you are.”

When the tablet was handed over Jamie saw an ethereally beautiful creature - captivating purple eyes in an elfin face with strands that might be hair waving as if caught in a breeze, and a luminous genderless body which seemed to have see-through wings attached to its arms... 

Sie could only stare in wonder, the reality far outshining any childish dreams sie had ever entertained. _This_ was her origin?

At the same time Josh grasped hir hand, almost hard enough to bruise, and when sie eventually looked up, Jamie saw that Josh was staring at the screen with no less intensity than hirself.

“Star poet,” he whispered, then slowly turned his head to stare at Jamie, as if he’d never seen hir before.

“You’re part star poet.”

As Jamie could only blink in confusion, Josh started talking, words tumbling out so fast he almost fell over them.

“We were abducted - Matt, Alex and I - back when we were 16, in the summer. And we were on this huge spaceship where they had a collection of aliens. Dead ones, like a museum - it’s what they did, these aliens, collected other species. And I saw a star poet. Like the one on the tablet. Like your father. And it was...”

He swallowed, clearly trying to get himself under control. “It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Alex had to physically drag me away so we wouldn’t get found by those who’d abducted us. And I always wanted to meet one, but there was always something else happening and now...”

Reaching up with the hand that wasn’t clasping Jamie’s, he gently touched hir face, with a care that bordered on awe.

“And now, I’ve had one all along. My very own star poet. My beautiful Jamie. Told you you were special, didn’t I?”

There was really nothing much to say to this, and Jamie still felt too shaken to say much at all. So many questions answered in such a short space of time... (Plus, they had been _abducted_? Although that was a conversation for another day... It would seem Josh had quite the collection of secrets himself.)

“Come on, we should probably get back upstairs before we lose all feeling in our extremities,” Jack said, carefully closing the drawer and herding them upstairs, where he got Jamie to sit down and have another drink.

After a while hir brain seemed to tick over again, and when Jack came back from checking on updates from his team, sie broke the silence.

“What did you mean that I’m something new?”

Jack folded his arms, studying hir guardedly.

“Basically that I don’t think there has ever been a hybrid quite like you. I’m not even sure you should be possible - seriously, I wouldn’t place any kind of bet on how you function on the inside.”

“But we can find out, right?” Jamie asked, suddenly both curious and apprehensive. “Nathan is a doctor and you must have some kind of... high tech medical equipment here.”

Jack nodded cautiously.

“We do. But are you sure you want to do this now?”

Jamie nodded. 

“I’d rather just get it over with.”

Nathan stood up and smiled quietly. Jamie found that sie liked him a lot - he seemed to be extremely quiet, although obviously competent, and nothing at all like the doctors hir mother had shielded hir from throughout hir childhood. Besides, a Torchwood doctor wouldn’t be flummoxed by anything.

“If you would follow me,” Nathan said, before adding. “I... must admit to a certain professional curiosity, I’m afraid. Although please inform me if I at any point overstep a boundary - most of my patients are not here of their own will. Or alive.” 

A little later Jamie found hirself in a tiled medical bay which looked like something from the 19th Century, although kitted out with equipment that seemed to come from the future. 

Nathan was carefully using some giant scanning tool attached to a robotic arm, which he was controlling from a console, as he made little h’m-ing noises. Josh was standing by, looking about as apprehensive as Jamie felt. Jack was watching from above, leaning against the railings.

Eventually Nathan spoke.

“Well this is... unusual. I think you were right, Jack.”

“What is it?” Jamie asked, sitting up as the scanner retracted and returned to its upright position, and Nathan pointed to the screen.

“I’ve concentrated on your torso for now, just to get an overview over organs and so forth, and whilst most are more or less standard human, it would seem that gender-wise you are somewhat of a composite. If you look here, you will see both male and female reproductive systems.”

A considered tilt of the head.

“It is unclear whether you would be able to actually carry a child to term, nevermind give birth naturally, but the basics all seem to be there.”

Jamie could feel Josh grasp hir hand, excitement shining on his face.

“You see? We _can_ have children! Heck, we could start a whole new race!”

But the joy in hir beloved’s eyes was nothing compared to the pure base horror that gripped Jamie as sie stared at the image on the screen. They’d been careful, of course, but all that time - _always_ \- all this had been lurking within.

“Get it out of me,” sie managed, forcing hirself not to scream. In hir head sie could see the image of the star poet still, singular and perfect, nothing ever threatening to _grow_ inside it... 

Nathan studied her, frowning.

“Which part?”

“The- the baby parts. Just - everything that’s not necessary for staying alive. You must be a surgeon, right, working here? I don’t even care about scars or... anything. Just _get it out_.”

Wrenching hir hand out of Josh’s sie grasped Nathan’s hand in both of hirs. She had never used hir telepathic abilities as anything except a shield, but found hirself using every ounce of hir mind as well as hir voice to impress the urgency of the situation onto the doctor by hir side.

“Please. Please, I’m begging you. I can’t- it’s wrong. It’s all wrong, it’s not me. _Please_?”

For a long moment Nathan looked at hir, contemplating, then nodded.

“We have a tool called a singularity scalpel. It is tricky to operate, but could do the job without the need for actual surgery.”

Jamie could feel hirself almost sagging with relief. “Thank you. Thank you. Can you do it now?”

Nathan hesitated and cast a glance up at Jack, and Jamie followed his eye line. Jack was looking at them with that inscrutable face that didn’t give anything away.

“Pregnancy isn’t the end of the world. Wouldn’t want to go through it again myself, but...”

Jamie glared.

“He’s a doctor, I’m his patient. If I need other opinions, I’ll ask.”

As Jack took this on board (and Jamie felt some sense of self return, sie was an expert at pushing people away when not needed), a gentle touch on hir arm made hir finally turn to Josh, who was looking at hir with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“But Jamie...”

“Sorry. But if you want babies, have them yourself. This-” Jamie swallowed, indicating the image on the screen, “-this isn’t me. Imagine if it was you? If you had...”

Sie couldn’t finish the sentence, covering hir mouth and closing hir eyes, wondering idly how sie wasn’t physically shaking. Inside all sie could feel was panic and dread. 

Josh wasn’t giving up however.

“Jamie- just wait a moment, please? You’re obviously emotional-”

“You _think_?” 

Sie hated making Josh upset, but... 

“ _You_ wanted this. _You_ pushed it. _You_ brought me here.”

A deep breath.

“And I understand now. I know what I am. And what I am does not include _that_. Told you I am not 'normal', I'm not a _girl_ , nor will I ever be.” 

Sie was angry and hurting, wondering if maybe he didn't understand anything after all. He'd met hir family, knew what sie'd been through growing up - the endless mis-gendering, the way they kept thinking sie was a girl, even now; how it was all _wrong_ , how sie could never, never ever, be a _woman_. (Or, heaven forbid, a man.) The thought itself almost brought on another panic attack. Babies would be lovely - but not if sie was the price they had to pay.

Whilst they were talking Nathan had quietly gone to fetch what had to be the singularity scalpel, although it looked more like a remote for a model plane. He also carried papers.

“I will need your signature here - and here.”

A faint smile.

“This almost feels irregular. Torchwood doesn’t often do consent.”

Jamie appreciated the honesty, even as sie signed the papers with alacrity. Sie’d thought Torchwood hir bane - instead it was becoming hir salvation.

***

It was all over in a matter of seconds. Nathan did another scan, just to double check everything, and Jamie could have cried with happiness.

Josh, however, had gone very quiet. 

When Jack suggested that they get a little fresh air, Jamie readily agreed, and Jack put them both on a paving slab that took them straight up to to Roald Dahl Plass, Jamie not quite believing that they were allowed to just _leave_. Not that they could run far, but still... Sie supposed that sie really wasn’t dangerous. Not in that sense, at least. 

(Although Jack had kept Josh back for just a moment. Jamie wasn’t sure what had been said, but Josh seemed a bit happier, and that was good.) 

It was a beautiful day, a cool breeze coming in from the Bay, and Jamie realised that for the first time in... forever, sie felt _free_.

Sie knew who sie was, and what sie was, and (random alien-hating bigots or transphobic idiots aside) no one was going _come for hir_. The shadowy, unknown ‘they’ were no longer a threat. Turning to Josh, sie wanted nothing more than make love to him for hours out of sheer gratitude. Instead sie contented hirself with mere words.

“Josh, I... _Thank_ you. I can’t explain what you’ve done for me. I will always remember it, no matter what. Wherever you go in your life, whatever happens - know that I will never forget.”

Except Josh was now staring at hir, with that selfsame hurt look he’d had before.

“Wherever I go... Jamie, I’m not going anywhere.”

Shaking hir head, Jamie couldn’t help but marvel.

“Josh, you can’t possibly still be thinking that we have a future.”

“Why not?”

“Take your pick. For starters you obviously want kids. And you have an incredible future ahead of you...”

“And, like I already told you, I want you to be a part of it! Screw kids, we’ll adopt or something. Jamie - I don’t _want_ a future if it’s not with you.”

Sie felt almost hollow, trying to do what was best for him. Why couldn’t he _see_...

“Josh - you are only twenty years old-”

“I know how old I am! I also know what I want. And I want _you_. But if you’re too scared to even try-”

He stopped mid-sentence and his eyes narrowed.

“Not to get all Freudian, but I think this is all because of your mother.”

Jamie took a step back, furious. The breeze suddenly made hir shiver, hir hair blowing about hir face.

“Don’t you _dare_ talk about my mother-” 

“ _Yes_ I will dare! I think your mother wanted to protect you, but the way she did it was to hide you away. She built this little cocoon for the two of you, and after she died you just kept on building. You let me _in_ , but that’s all, and you can’t live your whole life like that! You are beautiful and extraordinary and seriously, with a face like that the world could be at your feet with no effort at all! I want you. I want _all of you_. I want to go out into the world and _change_ it - I want to create beautiful, wondrous things, and I want you beside me. Please tell me that you’re not too scared to take a chance on love, to dare go out there and _live_ rather than just hide away your whole life... Jamie-”

To Jamie’s bewilderment Josh abruptly dropped down on one knee and brought out a ring box. He opened it and held it up, the ring inside catching the bright sunlight.

“Jamie, I’m going to ask one more time: Will you marry me?”

Sie could barely breathe. The ring was a simple slim band of gold with a diamond set into it - and yet, sie had recognised it immediately.

“That’s your great-grandmother’s ring...”

Sie had heard the story at Hanukkah. How Josh’s great-grandmother had sent her only daughter away with the Kindertransport in order to save her. Her husband had already been killed, and she had given her wedding ring to her 5 year old child for safekeeping, as a token that they would be reunited. They never were. 

Josh could not have chosen a more poignant token of his love, nor one with more impact. Jamie had no idea how it was _here_ (as far as sie’d been aware, it was in London with his family), but that didn’t matter right now, because Josh was talking again:

“I want you to have it. I want us to overcome everything life can throw at us. And I want us to grow old together, the way no one in my family has managed for the past 3 generations. Jamie please...”

It was madness. It would never work. It was everything sie had always tried to avoid. And yet...

What if love was indeed the answer?

Slowly (as if in a dream) Jamie dipped her head a tiny fraction, as sie - for the first time ever - dared to believe that happy endings might indeed be real.

“Yes Josh. I will marry you.”


	16. Chapter 16

_Josh told me. If you would like to talk, I’ll be in my flat Monday morning. Drop by any time.  
S._

The door was unlocked, so Jamie walked straight in, hanging hir coat on one of the pegs before doing a swift telepathic scan just to make sure that there was no one apart from hirself and Alex in the flat - and was stunned by what sie picked up. 

Walking into the large open plan seating area, Jamie looked at Alex as if sie’d never seen him before. Which sie supposed sie hadn’t.

“You’re an alien,” sie said - a statement, not a question - still trying to wrap hir mind around what sie could pick up.

He was golden and bright. Something sie had never imagined, something utterly unknown and _different_ tugging on all hir senses. ‘ _So_ much more alien’ Josh had said... Sie was beginning to see what he meant. 

Alex held hir eyes, then nodded.

“Yes.”

Seeing that Jamie was still rather speechless he motioned hir closer.

“Come on, sit down. It’s... interesting to let my shields down. I generally have them set extra secure when you’re around. I feel... sort of naked?”

Jamie took a seat and nodded, still mesmerised by the tantalising nature of what sie could sense. He tilted his head.

“Nice to find out what you are, by the way. I suspected Star Poet - what with the very obvious telepathy - but wasn’t sure how that could even work.”

“So... you knew?” Jamie asked, and he smiled.

“Oh yes, the second I saw you. No ordinary human in this time would even know how to shield their thoughts. The fact that you didn’t just do it, but did it instinctively - and extremely effectively - was hugely telling. But you read human too - whatever you were, it was integral, you weren’t something hiding in a skin suit. I can’t tell you how pleased I was that Josh found you - for both your sakes.”

The smiled widened into a grin.

“To be perfectly honest I don’t know that someone only human would ever have been enough to keep his attention for any length of time.”

‘Thanks,” sie replied drily, yet unable to stop hirself from glancing at the ring on hir finger.

Yesterday - once they had gotten back from Cardiff - had been more or less one long party as Josh had told everyone he could possibly think of the good news, from his mother all the way through to distant acquaintances. Jamie had spent the day being hugged and congratulated by more people in afternoon than sie generally interacted with in a year (people at the bar didn’t count - they were customers), all of them admiring the ring, hearing its story over and over, as Josh - so breathtakingly happy that Jamie didn’t quite know what to to - made plans and considered the future.

So far the wedding had been set for some time around graduation - so about a year and a half away - although Josh was going to move in permanently as soon as feasible. Jamie wasn’t sure what had happened to her beautifully quiet life, but knew that it would take time before sie would be able to assess things properly.

“Let me guess,” Alex said, as he followed hir eyes. “You’re equally happy and terrified?”

Jamie nodded, then began talking - not so much because sie trusted Alex, but because there was literally no one else to confide in, and the doubts in hir mind still cast long and uncomfortable shadows. And Alex seemed to understand...

“He is so happy. So... unbelievably happy. And I am too, of course, but... how can I ever live up to that? He is on this little cloud and what when he comes down? And he wants... He wants all these things, and he thinks that love will overcome everything. But what if it doesn’t? What if-”

Sie couldn’t continue, but Alex nodded, understanding in his eyes.

“They can’t see it. They don’t understand what it’s like to view things from the outside.”

Trying to somehow find her mental equilibrium again, Jamie turned the conversation around.

“Have you told Allie?”

Alex shook his head vehemently.

“No. Not yet. At some point I’ll have to, but my obstacles are far greater than yours. I know you’re worried, but you’ll be fine.”

“But the way he looks at me...” Sie couldn’t quite believe that sie was pouring all her fears out to someone sie’d only had vague interactions with before - but then sie didn’t really _have_ close friends at all. 

At this Alex smiled again. “Oh I know exactly what he sees when he looks at you.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Listen... I’ve known Josh since we were both four years old. I _know_ him. I remember when he came back from India when he was only nine, and how he wouldn’t stop talking about the Taj Mahal. And the thing is... that never stopped. From that day he knew exactly what he wanted to do with his life, and he never wavered in any way. Then he grew older, and discovered girls and boys and dating... Now I have no idea how many people he’s dated overall, as I’m sure he went behind everyone’s back at least half the time, and I’m not sure he knows either. The point is - there have been _a lot_. And then there was you.”

Alex studied hir, his focus absolute.

“Jamie, you’re his Taj Mahal. Something singular and... unassailable. Everyone said, back when he was nine, that the architecture thing was just a fad. But look at him now, well on his way to realising his childhood dreams. And you are the _only_ other thing he has ever taken to in the same way. He might be young, but once his mind is set, nothing can change it.”

Jamie found that sie could barely breathe. There was no way sie could have refused Josh, but sie still worried - what if, what if, what if... He was so _young_... And suddenly, like a miracle, Alex had solved it. Found a way for hir to believe that it could all be true, that it would truly last. Except...

“But he wants all these things... Like... children. He says he doesn’t care, but he does. Ask Jack, he saw his face.”

Alex waved his hand dismissively.

“Oh I can help with that. All _you_ need to do is love him - I’ll take care of any practical issues. Anything at all.” A frown. “Hey, don’t look so sceptical! Let me show you what I am. Properly, I mean, not just what you can pick up.”

Gently he reached out and laid his fingertips to Jamie’s temples, but it was the psychic touch that made hir eyes widen. 

_‘You’ve never done this before?’_ Alex asked, and sie found hirself responding in the same manner.

_‘No. Didn’t know I could...’_

A soft mental chuckle.

_‘Oh you have **huge** amounts of untapped potential - Star Poets use telepathy before speaking. I’ll teach you if you like? For now, do you want a tour? Don’t worry, I won’t peek - just step across and look around. Everything private is closed, so don’t worry about overstepping boundaries.’_

Heart beating Jamie did as told, crossing over into someone else’s mind for the first time, and it was as easy as breathing...

 _‘Here,’_ Alex added, _‘This is all I know about Arkateen V. Not a lot, but we’ll take you one day if you’re curious. I’m still grounded, but Jack could go.’_

Sie absorbed the knowledge within mere moments, almost dizzy from sheer delight at the _ease_ , even though sie could sense Alex’s laughter.

 _‘Told you,’_ he said, _‘And I seriously have to train you. Humans on the whole are rubbish at telepathy...’_

As sie moved around sie was struck by the sheer vastness of what his mind contained. So much knowledge... Although the most intriguing part was something sie couldn’t quite put hir finger on. It was what sie had picked up on from the moment sie walked through the door, but sie didn’t know what meant. 

It was something luminous and immense, glimpsed only in bits here and there, but that sie could sense all around. Like lights round the edges of a closed door. Too curious to let it be, sie tried to push through to that light, and immediately a blank mental wall appeared.

_‘Don’t.’_

Sie blinked, looking with physical eyes at Alex, who didn’t seem angry at all, just unmoving.

_‘Sorry...’_

_‘It’s not that it’s private as such. I just have no idea what will happen if I show you. It would probably kill you.’_

His eyes were very calm, and Jamie swallowed.

A pause, as Alex seemed to turn things over, then a slow nod.

_‘OK, a little peak. Like looking at the sun? If you only do it for a moment it won’t harm you, but you’ll probably be seeing spots for a good while. But it’ll explain better than words ever could... Ready?’_

Jamie nodded, and suddenly the entirety of creation seemed to be unveiled - past, present, future; stars born and dying, galaxies and nebulas and the endless progression of time. Civilisations growing and falling back into ashes, wars and terrors and unceasing wonder... The scale and scope was so breathtaking that sie couldn’t move, and then it was too much - hir mind faltering through overload, too much, too much, there was pain, like burning- and then it all vanished. 

Sie realised that sie was being held up by Alex, the mental link broken, as he looked at hir with concern.

“You OK? Sorry, I’ve never done that before, it’s hard to judge...”

Reaching up, sie felt the swiftest of mental sweeps through hir mind.

“No, you’re fine. No damage.” He bit his lip. “Josh would never forgive me if I hurt you.”

“What... what _was_ that?” Sie asked, once sie’d regained hir equilibrium.

“That,” Alex said slowly, “was what a Time Lord _is_.”

“Time Lord,” sie repeated, the name ringing a faint bell... (‘We have Time Lords on speed dial...’)

“Latest and Last of,” he added. “And, as you saw, I can do almost anything.”

The impossible still vivid in hir mind, sie nodded. If someone had asked hir, sie wouldn’t have been able to reply with any specifics, but sie simply _knew_ that manipulating the physical world - even time itself - was, for him, as simple as reaching out and just doing it. Eternity - everything sie had seen - in his mind, always. How did he concentrate? How did he notice anything in the present...

“And you hang around here. With people like us.”

A shrug.

“Well this is where I grew up, and where all my friends are. Although I’m sure you understand why I haven’t told Allison yet.”

The tone of voice was familiar, and sie knew what he meant to the very marrow of hir bones. It was how sie had lived for the past year and a half... Grateful for every day with hir beloved, yet knowing that at some point there would be a day of reckoning when it all could stop. Because what they had was too good to be true, and would probably not survive the unveiling.

Reaching out sie grasped his hand.

“I understand. Don’t worry, your secrets are safe with me. And you never know, you might get a happy ending too.”

“I hope so,” he said softly. “I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose her. Although I will, one day, no matter what...”

A sigh, as he looked into the distance.

“Mind you, if I hadn’t grown up here, if I hadn’t been sent to Cambridge, I wouldn’t have known her at all - and that doesn’t bear thinking about. ‘Better to have loved and lost’, that’s what they say, isn’t it? I hope they’re right.”

Jamie wasn’t sure what to say - Alex had always been perfectly friendly, but had never tried to get close to hir in any way (something for which sie had been rather grateful - sie generally avoided getting close to anyone). This sudden outpouring of his heart was unexpected... and yet, after what he had shown hir - that golden, celestial well of eternity, the core of his being in ways sie knew sie’d never be able to formulate - this sharing seemed almost ordinary. It wasn’t the right word, but sie couldn’t think of another.

Dragging a hand through his hair, Alex smiled wryly.

"For some reason dating Allison has also gifted me with a new and unwelcome capacity for self-pity. Sorry. I think I was going to mention how I haven’t gotten you an engagement present yet."

Jamie waved hir hand, embarrassed. All this _attention_ was not exactly hir favourite thing. "Oh you shouldn't."

"No, I really should. I know exactly what to get you. It won't cost a penny, although I'm sure it'll... _satisfy_ both of you."

The look in his face was suddenly full of mischief, and Jamie's eyes narrowed.

"I'm sorry?"

Alex's smile didn't waver.

"It'll also double up as your first lesson."

"Are you going to explain what on earth you're on about?"

Sie was probably sounding a bit snippy, but sie didn't have a lot of patience for this kinda thing. His next question threw hir, however.

"Do you trust me?"

He'd trusted hir with... things unimaginable. Sie nodded assent.

Leaning forward, he put his fingertips to hir temples once more.

"OK, I need to you lower _all_ your shields. Just for a moment."

Seeing hir hesitation, he added, with a sudden, unexpectedly serious emphasis: "It'll be worth it."

Taking a deep breath Jamie closed hir eyes and did as he asked, half of hir thinking that sie must have gone mad... And the next moment gasping in surprise as a sudden quiver of pure pleasure shot through hir. 

Eyes snapping open sie stared at Alex, who had already lowered his hands, the connection broken.

“Wha-”

He smirked.

“Once you know how, you can achieve anything from the merest flutter of desire to actual orgasms through a simple touch, mind to mind.”

Jamie was still speechless, and Alex lifted an eyebrow. 

"Certain parts of my ‘education’ were overseen my Jack. And no, that doesn't mean that we- Why does _everyone_ think that?"

“Well, you’ve... obviously done that before,” Jamie offered, and Alex’s mock-exasperation turned to a strange wistfulness - a wistfulness which was combined with a surprisingly devious smile.

“Oh yes... So _very_ much yes. And I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t miss it. But then there are so _many_ things I can’t have whilst I’m stuck here...”

Jamie’s response was instinctual rather than considered. It almost took hir by surprise, but then hir whole life had been turned upside down and sideways since the previous morning. And sie had found what sie had never dared dream of... Something Alex could still only hope for. Sie ached for him, and figured that what sie could offer wasn’t much - but it was something. 

Reaching out, sie laid a hand on his cheek.

“Seeker... Let me.”

Before he could react to the use of his real name (sie had found it at the very core of that endless eternity that sie had almost been lost in) sie leaned in, kissing him as deeply as sie could, simultaneously diving into his mind, finding hir target in no time at all - it really was only a question of taking what he had done to hir and returning it.

Sie could feel him tremble under hir hands as sie gently familiarised hirself with this hitherto unknown skill; like a piano player searching for a tune on a new instrument - not sure what the tune might be, but knowing that it would be unmistakable as soon as it was found.

To hir surprise and delight it _was_ music. From somewhere deep inside, somewhere sie hadn’t known before, sie could feel a melody - as instinctual as the kiss - guiding hir touch. Something sie knew to be _Star Poet_ and not human at all. 

The Seeker (not human at all, either) was enraptured, caught in hir song as sie overlaid bliss with bliss, ecstasy with ecstasy, weaving pleasure and passion with the lightest of touches, letting it swell and escalate, the layers blending in perfect harmony until it crested - every strand reaching a perfect crescendo, every note caught on the very edge, sustained and held in meticulous balance as the Time Lord under hir hands shivered in a release far, far removed from what any human would understand by the word.

Eventually (hir hands still on his face and the rhythm of his heartbeats easily sensed under his skin) he opened his eyes, looking at hir with eyes so full of wonder sie felt oddly shaken. 

_‘You truly are a Taj Mahal_ ’ he said... Except those weren’t his actual words. Jamie, startled, realised that he must have been speaking what she presumed to be Gallifreyan. The meaning of the words being hard to capture ( _‘You truly are/were/will be a singular person/event/place in time/space’_ ), yet overwhelming...

Feeling oddly drained and vulnerable after hir feat, Jamie wasn’t sure how to deal with this. 

_‘Please stop looking at me like that.’_

A barely visible shake of his head. 

_‘I am the Seeker. Finding something like you - something new and wondrous - is what I live for.’_

If there was a suitable response to a declaration like that, Jamie didn’t know it. A gentle mental chuckle rippled across Alex’s mind in response to hir befuddlement, helping to calm senses still unpractised and unsure.

_‘Don’t worry, you don’t need to do or say anything. No wait, that’s not true. If you wouldn’t mind, please tell Josh that he was right and I was wrong and I’m sorry.’_

_‘What for?’_ Jamie asked, by now thoroughly puzzled, and he sighed.

_‘I could have made things easier for you. And vice versa. I was stupid and selfish and wouldn't allow him to tell you about me. So... I’m sorry to you to.’_

_‘Don’t... don’t mention it,’_ sie replied. _‘What’s happened, happened. I don’t know that I would have been able to trust you back then. It’s taken me until now to believe that Josh is actually real...’_

Another chuckle. 

_‘Still - please tell Josh? He was very angry, and with good cause. Also I’m still happy to teach you, although you might not need me, going by today’s evidence...’_

Jamie tried smiling, but didn’t quite manage it. All these things inside, all these things sie’d never known - the initial fear replaced by the unexpected thrill of discovery.

_‘I’ve never done that before. I didn’t know that I could. Didn’t know that I-’_

_‘Could sing?’_ he filled in, and sie nodded again.

 _‘Neither did I’,_ he replied, studying hir with something like wonder. _‘It was... incredible. I... hope to teach Allison your song one day.’_

Suddenly jolted out of their little bubble, Jamie looked at him with worry:

_‘Was this cheating?’_

_‘I don’t know’,_ he replied simply. _‘How do you compare singing and dancing? To Jack it’s all the same - and the lines certainly blur if you do both at the same time - but then Jack has no concept of fidelity as such, so he’s not the best guide out there... The mindset of the 51st Century doesn’t mesh very well with the mores of the 21st.’_

_‘You’re not helping!’_

Alex tilted his head.

_‘Are you sorry it happened?’_

There was no point in lying - not that their communication, mind-to-mind, would have allowed it anyway.

_‘No.’_

_‘Well then. If it ever becomes an issue, you know where you - we - stand.’_

_‘But... but what do I **do**?’_

Alex leaned in, kissing hir so softly it felt more like a caress, and as he pulled back also let go of the mental link, leaving Jamie feeling acutely bereft and lonely.

“You go home, and you sing to your fiancé. Tell him as much or as little as you want, I only ask that you don’t mention it to Allie. I’ll have to cross that bridge when I get to it. But I wouldn’t have missed this for the world, and... I will remember it forever.”

Jamie nodded, clasping hir hands together and feeling the reassuring solidness of the ring on hir finger. Sie had touched eternity, and had found a song entirely hir own. Yet sie had roots now, firm and stable, something real to build hir life upon.

And sie wasn't alone.


	17. Chapter 17

_Spring 2027_  
Apparently shocks were like busses. None for ages, and then three came along at once. On the same day even.

Allison rather wanted a word with whoever was in charge - not that she was sure that she believed that there _was_ someone, but _if_ there was then he/she/it was clearly having a laugh at her expense.

It started in the morning with Alex asking her if she wanted to move in.

Although the wedding was still more than a year off, Josh was moving in with Jamie permanently as soon as possible, and Matt had decided that he wanted his own place. So if Allison wanted to try being a live-in girlfriend Alex was game.

This wasn’t an entirely unexpected development (after all they’d lived together the previous summer when they were travelling with the circus), yet it still felt oddly momentous. Moving in together... It was another step on the relationship path, and she was both excited and a little apprehensive. What if it didn’t work? What if, what if, what if... 

Yet she agreed immediately.

It was the news in the middle of the day that it took time to recover from however - to such an extent that she almost had no more shock left in the evening, when she felt that she probably needed it the most.

The midday news made it difficult for her to process anything else, as it was effecting everything in her life with immediate effect. Professor Trinder had related the news herself, the spring sun falling through the windows with such shining brightness that Allison felt that she was dreaming:

She was going to NASA.

Alex had talked about the NASA internships since before Christmas, and had (with his customary persistence) cajoled Chen and herself into applying, even roping Professor Trinder into providing them with references.

But knowing that NASA only considered applications from Americans for the actual internship, Allison had dismissed the whole idea along with all the other mad ideas Alex mentioned on a regular basis. There were various opportunities for international students, but not proper internships - she’d made sure to read all the fine print. And it was hard to miss the part where it said ‘US citizens ONLY’ in black on white. 

Still, somehow something magic had happened, and they were actually going, all three of them. Alex was of course smug as hell, but Allison was too stunned to even smack him around the head. 

Come evening she was grateful to have been asked round to Jamie’s - she’d be able to to curl up on a sofa and pretend to pay attention as Josh would be telling herself, Alex and Matt all about the plans they had undoubtedly already made for the wedding. Not that she wasn’t interested, but she needed time to let the NASA news sink in properly, and the whole marriage thing was like something out of a different world - a strange intrusion into their easy university life. 

Except that was not the evening she was in for.

Josh was the one to open the door, and, once they were in, took Alex’s hand, face oddly serious and his voice uncharacteristically hesitant.

“Just wanted to say... _thank you_. For... you know... the present...”

Allison turned to Alex, surprised.

“We got them an engagement present? Why didn’t you say?”

A sudden deafening silence followed her words, as Josh’s eyes grew huge, and Jamie, who was standing behind him, actually _blushed_ (Allison hadn’t known that sie could do that) - and Allison immediately held up a hand.

“OK, I don’t want to know. Sorry I asked.”

Josh started saying something that might be an apology, but she stretched out her hand and put a finger across his lips.

“Not. A. Word.”

Josh nodded and Allison shot Alex a look.

“You could have warned me.”

Alex at least the grace to look sorry, which she supposed was something. As if Troy hadn’t traumatised her enough at Christmas... figured that Alex would think along those lines too. Not that she could imagine what on earth he’d suggested (or possibly _given_ them), nor did she want to.

“I blame Jack, by the way,” she said, before seating herself down on the sofa next to Matt who shot her a reassuring ‘I don’t have a clue either’ look. She liked those, as well as the feeling of the two of them being the ‘normal’ ones. The fact that Matt had somehow managed to preserve his normalness, despite being best friends with Josh and Alex, gave her hope. She wasn’t doomed to peculiarity just because she was dating someone weird...

When everyone was seated, and tea and biscuits distributed, Josh bit his lip, looked at Jamie, then smiled nervously.

“OK, so this is... I’m not even sure what. I just... wanted to be a bit more open, so we thought we’d start small.”

Allison for a brief second thought that this would be a car keys in a bowl thing, except none of them had cars, plus that idea was ridiculous. Mentally hitting herself over the head, she told herself it was all Alex’s fault for having channelled Jack. And at the back of her mind NASA was still dancing tantalisingly, so she blew on her tea, and prepared herself for wedding preparations of the outlandish kind.

Then Jamie took over, face even paler than usual, as Josh grasped hir hand.

“What Josh is trying to say is... I’m half-alien.”

And Allison choked on her tea.

***

Due to the internship life suddenly gained momentum, the easy humdrum of daily life metamorphosing into a whirlwind of packing and getting everything sorted, and although she technically knew that several weeks passed, it _felt_ like mere moments.

( _She was trying to get her stuff moved to Alex’s - with three bedrooms they could have a study each if they shared a bedroom - as well as processing the fact that one of her friends was an alien. Or half-alien, rather. She knew an alien. It was a piece of information that somehow refused to stick, and kept surprising her at odd moments._ )

Yet she was now sitting in some sort of meeting room in the Lyndon B. Johnson Space Center in Texas, along with Alex, Chen, and a group of American students. Which had to mean that she was genuinely, properly a part of the Undergraduate Student Research Programme, and would be here for 3 months...

( _What was NASA’s policy re. aliens she wondered. Was there a protocol to follow? But then aliens that had grown up on Earth were a different thing to_ alien _-aliens from other planets._ )

The head of the programme - a jovial engineer called Richard, who wore a colourful checkered shirt paired with jeans and cowboy boots and on the whole looked like he’d stepped out of a TV show - was doing an introductory talk, explaining the basics in more detail using a smart board that made the ones at Cambridge seem slow and outdated.

As he spoke, a young woman silently slipped through the door and placed herself unobtrusively against the side wall. Allison would hardly have noticed her if it wasn’t for the way Alex had suddenly looked up from his pad and studied her so intently that it bordered on indecent. Eventually he returned to dividing his attention between the talk and his pad, but Allison could tell that he was distracted.

Trying to look at the woman without being as obvious as Alex, Allison had to admit that she was quite the stunner. The practical clothing and casual blonde ponytail didn’t hide the fact that she was as delicately built as Jamie, although she was obviously much more athletic, and facially she was just as striking - her features elegant and cool. 

Under ordinary circumstances Allison tried her best to stomp down on her jealous impulses, but in this case she was worried that she was justified - especially as the woman’s eyes speculatively fasted on Alex, and when he briefly looked up again Allison felt the look that passed between them could have been cut with a knife. Except then the woman’s eyes moved onto Allison, and she abruptly realised that she’d not been paying attention to the talk.

Apparently there were lots of different departments they could choose to work in, but Richard was keen to stress that they all supported the same outcome, the same purpose. Their current undertaking being Project Pit Stop, which would use the Moon as a refuelling base for planetary exploration.

However this was just the beginning - presuming it was a success they would then go on to exploring other planets, the goal being a settlement on Mars by the year 2069 at the latest.

As he laid out the general scope of all their projects Allison plain forgot about the mysterious woman, and felt pure excitement building inside, bubbling and new. She could help create something that might end up _on Mars_. Something _real_. All the theories, all the text books, all the studying... This is where it ended up.

She could tell that the other students shared her feelings and was only vaguely aware of Alex, until he put the pad down and raised his hand, stopping Richard’s monologue.

“I’d like to join the Pit Stop Project.”

Richard smiled pleasantly.

“Already made up your mind, eh? Well, we’ll see what we can do... There’s plenty that needs doing, and I’m sure they could use another hand.”

Alex shot the woman a swift glance, before lightly shaking his head.

“Sorry, I wasn’t being clear. I want to help lead and plan it.”

Richard’s smile turned slightly uncomfortable, hesitating somewhat in his reply.

“Listen kid, it’s nice that you’re so enthusiastic, but we’re no more going to let you do that, than, say, the head of a construction company would let an apprentice run a building site on the first day.”

Allison could practically _feel_ the smugness that was now coursing through Alex, as a smirk of pure, unalloyed Saxon settled on his features.

“I’ve done that,” he said lightly, and Richard’s smile vanished entirely, clearly thinking that Alex was being facetious.

“Very funny. But even if that’s true kiddo, space exploration is a little more complicated.”

Alex raised a condescending eyebrow.

“Which is why I’m here to help. I’m sure you could do with a hand - as you say, it’s complicated stuff. Well, relatively speaking...”

Allison could feel her heart sink. Why did he have to be like this? Why couldn’t he just be charming like he usually was? Guys like Richard tended to eat out of his hand in no time at all...

Then (heart sinking even further, before hitting the floor and beginning to dig) she realised that he was trying to show off because of the mystery woman. _'Men!'_ she thought tiredly. She’d not come here just so he could be a jerk and impress other women.

Richard stared, clearly unsure what on earth he was dealing with:

“Relatively speaking?”

“From your perspective it’s complicated. From mine, not so much.”

Richard had by now reached the thoroughly incredulous stage, and Allison could hear feet scuffling under tables. But Richard had clearly decided that enough was enough, and didn’t mince his next words.

“Now I know that your father is a nut job kid, but they could have warned us that you’re one too!”

Alex’s eyes narrowed, focussing on Richard with the sort of cold disdain and haughtiness Allison hadn’t seen very often, but that she remembered far too well. It was as if the whole room was holding its breath, waiting for his reply.

“My father might be insane, but he’s also a stone cold genius. As am I. More the fool you if you don’t give me the opportunity to prove it.”

It looked like stale mate, when the woman detached herself from the wall and moved forwards.

“Enough! Richard-” the engineer turned, and she calmly continued, her voice firm and her English accent without a hint of an American tinge. “I was the one who pushed for the boy to come. We were promised a genius, and it seems that’s what we’ve got.”

Walking up to Alex, she held out her hand. 

“I’m Adelaide. Pleasure to meet you Alexander Saxon.”

Alex took the offered hand, eyes practically glazing over with emotions Allison could only guess at. However her jealousy was hampered by her sudden realisation that this had to be the Adelaide that Professor Trinder had mentioned.

“Trust me, the honour is entirely mine Doctor Brooke,” Alex replied, and Adelaide seemed pleased at the formality of the address, motioning for him to stand up.

“Come along Saxon, I’ll take it from here.”

As Alex gathered his things, one of the other students had clearly had enough and spoke up.

“Sorry, but why does the English kid get special attention? He ain’t even supposed to be here!”

Adelaide turned and studied him coolly.

“The English kid gets special attention because his father created a satellite network twenty years ago that we still don’t understand.”

“And killed our President!”

Alex had now pushed his chair under the table and finally spoke, voice perfectly neutral, yet with a hint of steel that Allison hadn’t seen very often. 

“I’m perfectly aware that my father is an evil, psychotic, mass-murdering megalomaniac. Wanna swap?”

A couple of seconds, then the student lowered his eyes, deeply uncomfortable, muttering something unintelligible.

“See you later Allie, have fun!” Alex then said, briefly kissing her cheek, and she tried to smile without meeting any of the intensely curious eyes now on her. How was it possible that he could play people so skilfully that he had everyone dancing to his tune, yet be utterly tone-deaf at the same time?

When the door finally closed behind Alex and Adelaide, Richard smiled stiffly.

“Well, I think that young man could probably do with some therapy.”

Allison couldn’t help shrugging and adding a comment of her own.

“I tried suggesting that. He refused.”

“Ah,” Richard replied, a whole conversation contained in the utterance, and then - having effortlessly relegated Alex to Therapy Case rather than Genius - concentrated on explaining to the rest of them what their choices were for the summer.

Allison however knew that vindication would be Alex’s... Sooner or later everyone would discover that he was just as brilliant as he claimed to be. Adelaide obviously knew this, and Allison felt a tiny stab of _something_. She should be grateful to be here at all, but somewhere - far, far down - she wished she’d gotten here on her own merits, and not because of Alex. 

As they set off for a tour of the different departments a little later, Chen (whom she had almost forgotten about) quietly caught her attention, and she made sure to slow her steps so they were out of earshot of the rest.

“I am not sure I understand what happened,” Chen said in his careful way. “Why the sudden talk about therapy?”

Allison sighed.

“It’s an American thing. Well, Western I suppose. Alex obviously has _issues_ because of his father. And it would probably be good if he tried to talk through them and deal with everything.”

Chen studied her thoughtfully. 

“But does this impact on his work?”

“No...”

A pause as Chen’s brow drew together.

“It is strange, the way people here behave. I do not understand it. Our Professor clearly marked out Alex as a special case, yet this Richard and the other students challenged his position. He dealt well with the disrespect, although I wonder - why was he not taken aside from the beginning? I found the argument very... Untasteful? Distasteful? Bad taste? What is the English word?”

As Allison tried to answer, her mind was busy trying to reconstruct the scene from this new perspective, and realised that Alex’s responses - rather than coming across as entitled and insulting - made perfect sense. Turning it over, it wasn’t so much the fact that Chen had a different outlook that made her pause, but that it was clearly one that Alex shared. She knew this already, but she’d never really examined it... How had he developed it? He’d grown up in England, after all, not China, and his father might be insane, but he was still British. Was it some weird Saxon-y hangover from the entitlements of Empire? But surely Alex was much too smart not to see the through that... He just _expected_ all the rules to bend when he wanted them to - and they did. 

Then they entered the robotechnics department, and Allison was suddenly rendered speechless when confronted with the actual people who had built Curiosity.

***

She didn’t see Alex again until that evening, when he appeared like a beaming, blond Jack-in-the-box, helping himself to one of her chicken wings, before scooting in alongside her on the bench.

“This is the life,” he said, smiling benignly at the other students round the table, all of whom fell silent as they took in his presence.

But curiosity swiftly won out over hostility, and Allison decided to just sit back and watch the show. She shot Chen a look, and he smiled back. Alex was ‘doing his thing’ again.

Later, when they finally found themselves alone, she did some quizzing of her own.

“So... Adelaide...”

She wasn’t sure what she was trying to say, but thankfully Alex guessed.

“You are wondering what we talked about? Or are you jealous because I look like I’d crawl over broken glass for her?”

She tried smiling, but failed miserably.

“The second part. Mostly.”

“Well I would. Crawl over broken glass, I mean.”

His voice was perfectly even and calm, like stating the fact that the Earth revolved around the sun, and Allison buried her head in her hands.

“That’s _not_ helping.”

He took her hands, and looked at her as if she was three years old. (Which didn’t help either.)

“Allison - I’m more likely to try it on with the Statue of Liberty. And the Statue of Liberty would probably be more forthcoming. Doctor Brooke is... something utterly singular. She’s like... the Pyramids or the Niagara Falls. She is a true visionary, except she’s right at the start of her journey. But trust me, one day the whole world will know her name. I can... I can feel the rush and weight of history just standing next to her, it’s incredible.”

Sighing deeply, Allison decided to just drop it for the time being, as she was rather exhausted and the jet lag was beginning to kick in. Mostly she was annoyed - this was the fulfilment of a lifetime’s worth of dreams and it was being dented by a woman who was entirely too pretty and clever for comfort. She had never felt threatened before - not really - but Adelaide... There was no way she could compete. Because surely Adelaide would soon realise just how clever Alex was. And where would that leave Allison... 

Plus, he was hiding behind history. Possible future history, but history nonetheless, and there was nothing Allison could do about that. He might very well be vindicated in 30 or 40 years time, but Allison couldn’t wait that long.

As she fell asleep, she thought that Josh had got it right. Jamie might be half-alien, but sie was, without a doubt, all Josh’s. But Alex... he loved her, she _knew_ that, but he was also terrified of his emotions, and had too many issues to count. A half-alien was nothing in comparison...

***

Oddly enough it was Adelaide herself who allayed Allison’s fears.

The next morning, as she was trying to come to terms with what passed for tea in America and deciding that she would probably have to stick to coffee for the duration of the summer, she felt a tap on her shoulder, and turned to see a fresh faced Adelaide behind her. 

“Allison- I was wondering whether I could borrow a few minutes of your time?”

“Um... course,” she replied, bewildered, and followed the other woman down yet more endless corridors (she was going to have to get a proper map, this place was a labyrinth), before finally finding herself in Adelaide’s office. It was as tidy and organised as Alex’s flat ( _their_ flat she corrected herself), and she took a seat, trying her best to smile.

“I presume this is about Alex?”

“Yes and no,” Adelaide replied, “although we can certainly begin with him.”

Bringing out a tablet, she shot Allison a candid look.

“As everyone is probably now aware, he was the reason your inclusion was green-lit. Let me see... How did Suzanne put it again?” 

She tapped her tablet, bringing up what she was looking for, as Allison's brain slowly connected the dots, remembering that Professor Trinder's first name was Suzanne. 

“‘A polymath that leaves Leonardo da Vinci and Stephen Hawking trailing. Unfortunately very unfocussed.’ Tell me Allison - what does he want to do once he’s graduated?”

Allison could only shake her head. 

“I don’t know. Anything, everything... He’s very... vague. He talks about his own projects.”

Adelaide nodded, eyes speculative and cool.

“Genius is a wonderful thing, but without focus it’s not much good. I’m hoping that we can harness and channel his genius here - help it serve a greater purpose than just showing off.”

Putting the tablet down, she looked at Allison with a look Allison couldn’t work out at all. She’d have called it conspiratorial, except how would that even work?

“That said... Alex might have been the bait that got the big names here to allow you in, but you and Chen - you were what I was after.”

Allison stared at her, stunned. She was expecting a punch line, or laughter, but none came.

“Chen and I?”

Adelaide nodded, leaning forward and speaking very carefully.

“Chen because he’s Chinese and we need to start co-operating with others in a big way if we’re not going to be left behind. As you might be aware, I am the first NASA candidate to be selected who isn’t a US citizen. I want to make them see that they can’t afford to make me a one-off. The Chinese education system is vigourous in ways they’re not accustomed to, so Chen should hopefully give them a taste for more. And you...” 

A sudden smile, as bright as it was unexpected. 

“Suzanne said that you reminded her of me. That you had the same ambition.”

Allison wasn’t sure what to say to this, and Adelaide fixed her with a focus that would have been downright unnerving if she hadn’t been used to Alex.

“I will be the first human on Mars. But I need dedicated people beside me, in order to get there. People with _vision_. People who can keep a goal firmly in their heads even as they work on the tiniest of details. You are welcome to choose whichever project you want while you’re here, but - if you like - you can be my personal assistant, getting a taste of how to make the future happen.”

Heart beating, and breath suddenly caught, Allison realised that she, too, would probably crawl over broken glass for Doctor Adelaide Brooke.


	18. Chapter 18

_Summer 2027, Texas_  
It was a strange sort of summer. If the previous year’s ‘holiday’ had been characterised by the constancy of their continual, shared, movement - new places, new sights every day - this summer was spent mostly apart, both of them buried in work with a singular focus; the time they shared near-breathless trying to tell each other what they were doing.

For Allison the other interns soon ceased to be a lump of ‘Americans’ and gained personalities and stories and quirks, and some of them even became good friends. The one who stood out the most being the boy who had challenged Alex on that first day. A tall, lanky, black kid with an afro to be reckoned with, he turned out to be called Panache - a name he carried off perfectly. He was also a whiz with computers, and ended up getting along famously with Alex. Of course Alex wasn’t around much, and Allison became part of a little ‘girl gang’ that usually went out together. (The boys outnumbering the girls to a ratio Allison found depressing.) 

But most of all she was relishing the challenge of the work, and the fact that she could tell which avenues to pursue in her further studies in order to do this for a living. Not that she wasn’t enjoying Cambridge, but it was a world apart, and sometimes the wider scope of their lives was forgotten: at NASA there was no chance of that ever happening. The shared goal of everyone was constantly held up before them, as well as the importance of every detail - it gave a whole new meaning to the word ‘team work’.

After a few weeks however, the whispers started. Allison was barely aware of them at first, and put them down to Alex-being-Alex. The kind of thing that made Adelaide shake her head and look at Allison with wonder in her eyes. 

“Never known a kid like him. At this rate-”

She caught herself.

“Nevermind.”

Allison just smiled. Once people got used to him it’d probably all die down.

Except it didn’t - instead it grew.

The turning point came one day when she happened to overhear two of the senior technicians chatting quietly, with perfect I-don’t-believe-it Victor Mildrew looks on their faces (not that they’d be familiar with One Foot in the Grave, of course), and became intrigued.

“... and from what I heard they call him ‘Golden Boy’,” one of them finished, lifting his coffee cup, and the other (a large black woman in an orange top that almost looked radioactive against the drab walls) lifted an eyebrow.

“Seriously? Well, I won’t believe nothin’ until we get word from above. I know Adelaide said he was special, but...”

There was something to the quality of their discussion - a sense that what wasn’t being said was somehow transgressive - which made Allison decide to cut in.

“Sorry, can I ask what you’re talking about? I’m his girlfriend-”

The black woman shook her head.

“Aw honey, it’s nothin’. Just some wild rumours. I’m sure he’s a clever kid, but some people just get carried away. I was here when they launched Curiosity and let me tell ya...”

Then followed a lengthy wander down memory lane, which was interesting, but didn’t answer Allison’s question.

As soon as she managed to detangle herself, she called Alex. They moved him around a lot, but he was currently in Florida as far as she knew.

“Hello ‘Golden Boy’,” she said archly, and the grin on his face was more than proof that the moniker was indeed his.

“Hello yourself. It’s a great nickname, isn’t it? And accurate too!”

“Alex - what are these rumours? What exactly are you doing?”

Biting his lip, his eyes danced like she’d rarely seen before.

“You know Project Pitstop?”

“Yes...”

“I’ve brought it forward by a year.”

She frowned, not sure she followed.

“What do you mean?”

“Well... Thanks to me, the first shuttle will launch this August, which is rather an improvement on the original date of September next year I think. Oh and I’ve made sure it launches from here in Florida, rather than Kazakhstan, as I know how much you wanted to see a proper launch. Figured that as our internships will be done by then we could even have a bit of a holiday first...”

She stared at him, and then abruptly sat down, feeling oddly light-headed.

He’d done it for her.

This whole wonderful summer, the internship, the courting of Adelaide... It was all for _her_.

Oh he was certainly getting plenty out of it too, but she knew him well enough to understand how he functioned...

He was making a spaceship fly for the simple reason that he wanted to make her happy; was making the whole of NASA dance to his tune because he’d noticed the wistfulness in her voice when she’d talked about shuttle launches. 

“Allie? _Allie_ \- are you OK?” he was asking, sounding a bit anxious, and she smiled, as if from far away, then tried to focus on him properly.

Her _impossible_ boyfriend, the Golden Boy...

Somewhere, dimly, the thought registered that what he was doing was... worrying. She seemed to recall breaking up with him because of the way he manipulated people without it registering on his conscience as problematic. Yet this was different, wasn’t it? He was, personally, causing the change, working hard to achieve something extraordinary.

Looking at him now - the happy open face, the concern over her lack of response - she finally spoke, the question following logically from her train of thought:

“Why me?”

His eyes softened, and he shook his head very gently.

“Clever I may be, but that’s a question I can’t answer. Although...”

He hesitated, and she waited for him to gather his thoughts.

“I’ve been thinking about this. About love. I think... Love is when what you want becomes what you have. Does that make sense? I mean - love is subjective. Unless you’re a saint, or something. I love you because you’re _you_. An impartial observer could probably find women thought more beautiful, or clever, but I’d still only want you, because what you _are_ is what I love. All the specific things that make you you... The particular shade of grey of your eyes, the way you brush your hair, your... _intransigence_ \- out of the billions of people on this planet, you are the only one I want... My Allison - I’d lay all the stars in the sky at your feet if you wanted.”

She could only shake her head mutely in response, because what could anyone to say to a declaration like that? Except of course ‘Me too’, but she wasn’t sure she could remember how to form words. Then he dipped his head, a self-deprecating smile tugging at his mouth as the seriousness faded.

“I know, I know. Young men in love. I’ll try to tone it down...”

“Alex-” she cut in, blinking away tears that she hadn’t even noticed until now.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he replied swiftly. “I can see it all in your eyes. And I look forward to seeing you properly this weekend...”

She swallowed.

“Me too. Oh definitely me too.”

***

The main problem with moving something forward by a year soon manifested itself: A million and one tiny details needed checking and sorting in a couple of months, rather than a year, and as Adelaide was busy training for the launch, she - apparently without a second thought - delegated vast amounts of her work to Allison.

Although it was flattering to be trusted, a lot of it was almost beyond Allison’s capacity. She had always been at the top of her class, easily outshining others, and even at university she hadn’t needed to be sent to NASA to know that she and Chen were ahead of the rest. 

The problem with NASA being that _everyone_ was at the top of their field. Work Allison would usually expect praise for didn’t cause Adelaide to so much as raise an eyebrow.

Not that Allison could really blame her - Adelaide was pushing herself in ways that reminded Allison of the circus performers the previous summer. Except Adelaide wasn’t training in order to perform in front of an audience for the sake of entertainment... Going into space was a far more serious undertaking, where a mistake could cost lives, not to mention the destruction of equipment worth millions and the undoing of years’ worth of work. 

So, despite often being too tired to even think, Allison far preferred this summer. 

She was helping create a moon base, and she’d witness a shuttle launch. It was the fulfilment of childhood dreams she’d thought unattainable - or at the very least something that could only be the result of a lifetime’s worth of work.

Only once did she see Adelaide admit to any uncertainty, and she knew that if it hadn’t been for the fact that she was Alex’s girlfriend Adelaide would probably had kept it to herself. 

It was during one of her flying visits, catching up and making sure that everything was progressing, when Adelaide suddenly put down the papers they were going through and turned to Allison.

“I don’t know how he did it. Does it, even.”

The was a pause, during which Allison didn’t quite know what to say, unsure where Adelaide was going. The four screens in front of them hummed quietly, and Adelaide slowly shook her head.

“He works harder than anyone I’ve ever met, frequently clocking in 48 hours or more at a stretch, and although everything adds up, and we’re on schedule... I don’t know how he did it. How did a 20 year old kid walk into my project and shave 12 months off? I’ve been over everything 3 times at least and it’s like he pulled the thing out of thin air.”

Allison wasn’t sure what to say, and had a feeling that Adelaide was talking to herself most of all. Eventually she went for something she hoped wasn’t too flippant.

“At least he’s working with you, and not the Branson lot...”

Adelaide nodded, a smiled spreading across her face.

“Very true. I _do_ like your attitude Allison. I’m hoping you’ll both be joining us permanently one day.”

***

Leaving was harder than Allison expected. Not just saying goodbye to the people who had become far closer friends than she had realised - but leaving behind the work was nigh-on impossible.

All the way to Florida she was fretting that the perfectly capable person she’d left Adelaide’s work with would get something wrong, or misunderstand one of the thousands of notes she had written, or there could be a fire and everything would be destroyed... There was too much riding on this for her to let go.

Alex patting her hand and telling her that everything would be fine didn’t help (‘Do you think _I’d_ be leaving if everything wasn’t going well, Allie?’), and she nearly bit his head off pointing this out.

The rest of the flight he quietly busied himself with his laptop, as Allison concentrated on looking out of the window. Flying was still a novelty, although now it also helped to remind her of the million-and-one things that could go wrong with the mission...

The first thing that began pulling her out of the stress was the heat and light of Florida. It enveloped them like a blanket when they arrived, and Alex (without asking) put a wide-brimmed sun hat on her head. 

And instead of scowling, she smiled.

The house (or rather villa) that he had rented was not far outside Orlando, and the contrast between the accommodation at the Space Center in Texas (which, although basic, had been perfectly fine) and the excessive luxury of the villa was enough to make her stop going over lists in her head and have a look around... Which led to the discovery of a conservatory with a large pool at the back. On closer inspection the conservatory turned out to be made of netting, rather than glass, something which puzzled her hugely until Alex explained about the bugs. (Clearly nowhere was perfect.)

That evening, as the sun was setting and they were sitting by the pool, the heat having decreased to something suitable for human habitation, Alex tilted his head and studied her.

“You’re still tense. Here - try this.”

He held out - as if this was a perfectly normal thing - something she at first glance mistook for a cigarette, before her eyes widened and she stared at him, shocked.

“I think I can de-stress without the use of _drugs_ , Alex! Where did you get that from anyway? Is it even legal?”

(What was legal where in America was something vague and confusing. She’d got her head around Texas, but nothing more.)

“Does it matter?” he asked, calmly. “It’ll work.”

“But...”

“Allison, you’re only young once. Live a little.”

“But...”

“Here, let me show you how. And since you’re wondering, this is one of the most fun things _I’ve_ learned at NASA.”

Finding out that the people responsible for ‘her’ project did drugs on the side wasn’t very reassuring, yet somehow she found herself agreeing to just try a little... Despite disliking the very idea of smoking and getting weird chemicals inside her. 

Maybe it was Alex’s attitude, she reflected a little later. There was a devil-may-care side to him, which was strangely at odds with his sensible, almost OCD tendencies... Whatever it was, she knew that it something she was obviously attracted to. (It was a cliché, but there is was...) He had a restless mind, constantly looking for new challenges, which balanced her own, more steady, approach very nicely.

Plus he kept surprising her...

“By the way,” he started, watching the smoke dissolve, “I’ve not randomly turned into a pot-head over the summer. There’s method in my madness, if you’ll pardon the expression. You see, at some point my father will decide to introduce me to cigars, and I’d rather not make a fool of myself. So I figured I’d start small, work my way up.”

She stared at him for a long moment, trying to make sense of what he’d said. Surely a simple joint couldn’t make her head that slow-working.

“Cigars? What?”

“My father. He likes cigars.”

“OK...”

“It’s a thing. Sorry, I was thinking out loud. But - I like to think ahead, and besides... Why not try?”

She decided to ignore the bait and instead followed the thought that the mention of his father had brought up.

“But your Uncle... Won’t he mind if he finds out? He’s... quite strict, isn’t he?”

Turning to her, he smiled a brilliant smile.

“Frankly my dear I don’t give a damn.”

“Oh great, you’re just going to be quoting stuff...”

He laughed, and she suddenly remembered what he’d said to her weeks previously. 

_‘Love is subjective’_ , she thought, watching the way the setting sun outlined his cheek, painting his hair a luminous shade of orange-gold, and she knew there was nowhere else she would want to be, except with him.

***

Somehow the week vanished in no time at all, with morning and evening dips in the pool; excursions to everything from ‘The Parrot Jungle’ to Disney Land; and visits to wonderful restaurants every night.

Yet it was over far too quickly, and they were now at the culmination of the whole visit. Allison felt very touristy in a short pale blue summer dress and a large straw hat bought in the Florida Keys, yet the excitement almost made her shiver despite the warmth.

They were allowed to say goodbye to the astronauts, and she hugged Adelaide tightly, wishing her all the best.

Alex only took her hand, tilting his head and watching her with that selfsame intensity he had the first day.

“Say hello to the stars from me,” he said, and oddly enough didn’t sound flippant at all.

And then they had to relocate to a viewing gallery where they had an uninterrupted view of the shuttle. ( _Their_ shuttle.)

As the countdown started, Allison grasped hold of the bar in front of her.

"Oh my god," she said, almost unable to breathe. "This is better than sex!"

Alex laughed and pulled her closer. "Knew there was a reason I liked you."

And then they both fell silent, watching as the white spacecraft slowly and majestically ascended, up and up and up, a bright beacon against the blue-white of the clear sky - impossible and incredible and near-magical.

As the people slowly dispersed, the vapour trail dissolving in the sky above them, Allison felt Alex’s hold on her tighten, hands almost nearing somewhere not appropriate for public, before he let go, grasping her hand and spinning her around, looking deep into her eyes.

“Better than sex... You know, I’d like to challenge that.”

“Alex!” she said, trying to see if anyone had overheard his words, but he only smiled, eyes so intense she felt almost hollow with sudden longing... How the breathlessness of the launch had translated so effortlessly into desire she wasn’t sure, but she was not about to complain, considering how they were clearly on the same page.

(He’d made the shuttle fly _just for her_. She should have gotten used to the thought by now, yet it still tripped her up.)

Next he was dragging her along behind him, through yet more labyrinthine corridors (the Americans clearly loved them), before stopping at a random door and fishing a keycard out of his pocket.

When he pushed the door open, she looked around at the rather untidy space, several desks crammed into the dull office, and frowned as he locked the door behind them, leaving the key next to the lock.

“Whose office is this?” she asked, but he shook his head, eyes full of something beyond mere lust.

“No idea,” he said, before pulling her close, kissing her so deeply she had to gasp for breath when he let her go. Pushing her backwards so she bumped into a desk, he reached behind her and with an efficient sweep pushed all the papers down on the floor.

“Alex!” she admonished again, momentarily shocked out of the spiral she was climbing by his casual disregard for someone else’s belongings. But he merely grasped her waist and lifted her onto the fake-wooden work top, stepping between her legs and pushing her flush against him, demanding and irresistible.

“I-” he said, inbetween kissing the corner of her mouth and then her neck, “-feel more like _myself_ -” at this he pushed up her dress, “-than I have in _two years_! Do you have even the _slightest_ idea what that means?”

Another kiss, deep and searing, as his hands (so clever, so skilled) made waves of pleasure flood through her until she barely heard his next words.

“My Allie,” he whispered, low voice barely audible, yet somehow making her tremble. “You and me - we are going to touch the stars.”

And then there were only the two of them in the whole world, moving as one, intertwined, answering a need that was somehow more bone-deep than was possible to express in words. She just knew that he was her beautiful, clever, impossible lover, and hers only... 

She clung onto him as they moved towards their mutual completion, but as she crested onto that incredible release she felt as if she broke out of herself completely. For a fraction of a second the present ceased to exist, and instead the future shone at her in a thousand fragments... 

_The solemnity of Graduation - Josh and Jamie’s wedding - shuttles launching - a shared meal - the moon, stark and brilliant - his hand on her face - dull meetings - the endlessness of space, stars spread out beneath her feet - a night of passion - her family celebrating Boxing Day - twin suns against a flaming sky - playful work in a technical lab - Adelaide on Mars, face proudly radiant - an alien spacecraft - a world in celebration - Alex, older but his eyes lit up, golden and blazing, as if containing all the stars of the sky, watching her as if she was the most precious thing in the whole universe..._

Then the moment was lost, shattering into golden ecstasy, before everything (slowly, slowly, so slowly it felt as if time itself was slowing its steps in order for her to gather herself) dissolved back into the real world where her Alex was only a boy in her arms, shivering and spent, pressing soft kisses into her neck.

Although she wouldn’t have been the least surprised if she’d seen actual stars in his eyes when he finally lifted his head to look at her. 

Despite the strange vision fading until she couldn’t quite remember it (except now and again when in that no-where-land between waking and dreaming; or reasserting itself as strange déjà vu's, forgotten as soon as the moment passed), she from that day onward had an unshakeable conviction that their future would be golden.

***

The autumn term seemed to prove her right.

Living with Alex was just as easy as it had been the previous summer (he was so organised she never had to worry about a thing), and - just to prove that she could still be rendered speechless - on Remembrance Sunday she met the King.

Christmas, however, threw dark shadows over their happiness. Being clever was no guarantee against tragedy, and Allison was reminded of just how fragile even a Golden Boy could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next follows [To Save A Life](http://archiveofourown.org/works/458749/chapters/790245).


	19. Chapter 19

_Very early Boxing Day morning, 2027_

Mars was far less hostile than Allison had expected. No need for space suits or anything like that. 

Jamie was helping Adelaide and Josh build a giant castle, full of strange tunnels inside, which Allison didn't think were very sensible from an architectural point of view, but Josh just waved her objections away, so she walked out the giant triangular door. Outside there were lots of tall, willowy purple aliens with butterfly wings, standing on ladders. There was a very good reason for this she knew, although she couldn't remember it at the moment.

Someone had brought a little train - one of those miniature ones kids could ride on - and she waved to her niece and nephews as it went past. The sky was orange, which gave her an odd sense of deja vu.

Then - as she was in the middle of a discussion with Chelsea about sunscreen and white outfits (Chelsea was doing some reporting for Fox News) - there was a flash and Alex appeared. He was somehow Alex and _not-Alex_ at the same time, and he sat down next to her (she was simultaneously in her bed at home as well as being on Mars she realised), gently stroking her cheek and talking in some strange, but beautiful, language that she couldn't understand. He seemed terribly sad.

Hovering between waking and dreaming, it slowly dawned on her that _there was actually someone in her room_...

Heart beating wildly she abruptly sat up, with sleep-induced delay realising that it was only Alex sitting at the side of her bed... Which threw up another host of questions.

Desperately trying to clear her mind she reached out and turned her bedside light on, glancing at the alarm clock in the process.

"Alex! What the hell you doing here? You frightened me half to death. It's half-past two!"

"I can't sleep," he said, voice oddly toneless, and she looked at him more closely, noticing an uncharacteristic listlessness, and hollows under his eyes.

"Alex... You look terrible, I thought you were home in bed, poorly. How- why-"

He'd been off shopping, goodness knew where (someplace in Europe presumably), but called up the day he’d returned to England, explaining that he was ill and was going straight home instead of coming back to Cambridge. He'd said that he might come along to her parents’ for Boxing Day, but that didn't explain why he was suddenly in her bedroom in the middle of the night. How had he got here?

"I'm not ill," he said, watching her impassively. "I lied, sorry. It was the only thing I could think of.”

His brow drew together, and he seemed to look straight through her as he continued talking.

“I’m not exactly OK, though. I thought I was coping well, all things considered, but this must be some kind of delayed reaction..."

"Alex... what on earth are you talking about?"

"I can't sleep," he repeated. "Every time I close my eyes I see their faces."

She swallowed, and gingerly took his hand, causing him to shiver. She’d only seen him like this once before, and she couldn’t imagine that he’d been to see another Babushka to have his fortune told...

“Whose faces? Alex, please explain what’s happening, because you’re scaring me.”

Slowly, by continually asking questions and getting him to focus (not easy), the story emerged.

On his way to Cambridge he’d stopped off at Torchwood to hand out presents to Jack and the other people working there. Except when he’d arrived he’d found most of the employees dead. He had managed to save Ianto by getting him to a hospital with no time to spare, but the others had been beyond help. Jack had apparently been the only one not in danger. (He drifted off at this point.)

This information was relayed with such calmness that she found it hard to wrap her head around the reality of what he was telling her. Especially when he then explained that he’d spent the last few days leading up to Christmas helping Jack clear up, which involved taking care of the bodies (Torchwood apparently _froze_ their dead), then packing up the dead employees’ lives before storing them away and creating fake deaths for their families and the wider world.

“And Jack just... let you do this?” she asked, horrified. She had expected counselling or similar... That kind of shock and trauma - how the _hell_ could Jack have let him leave without any kind of support?

Alex shook his head, still much too quiet.

“Not exactly. I had to pretty much force him to accept my help.”

“He shouldn’t have agreed,” she said firmly, and for the first time his eyes seemed to come alive.

“I wasn’t about to let him do it on his own!” he replied angrily. “Do you have _any_ idea how many friends he has buried? How short the life span of a Torchwood employee is? Ianto was in the hospital, so he couldn’t help - and besides he _watched them die_ , unable to help. I-”

Whatever he was going to say was cut off by something like a sob, and he briefly buried his head in his hands.

“Sorry,” she said, at a loss. What were you supposed to do in cases like this? He was very obviously hugely traumatised, but...

Lowering his hands, he studied them with a frown.

“They’re shaking,” he said, and she felt the sting of tears. He sounded so helpless and unsure in the face of something perfectly normal under the circumstances.

Watching his hands intently he waited for them to stop, before looking at her again.

“No _I’m_ sorry. I didn’t mean to... shout. But it was good to be busy. As long as there was something to _do_ I was doing fine. Yesterday was hell. My parents didn’t know what had happened, and thought I was just hung over. And the Doctor...” A deep sigh. “We had a good talk - a really good talk, the first since- since we fell out, but he was still feeling so _guilty_. He is like a guilt sponge, and he was _hovering_ all day, wanting to help.”

A strange little smile, which for the briefest moment made him look more like himself.

“Mind you, there is an upside... He decided that he’d give me my freedom back - as a Christmas present. Just like that. I can do whatever I want, go wherever I want...” 

He pressed his lips together, the smile wobbling as he seemed to fight several different emotions at the same time. 

“And I don’t want to go anywhere at all.”

Looking at her again, he shook his head lightly.

“It’s how he copes you see - running away. But no matter where I go, I’ll still see their faces when I close my eyes. All I want is just to sleep...”

“Alex,” she said slowly, mentally adding up the hollows under his eyes and the disconnected nature of his conversation. “How much have you slept since-”

“Since it happened?” He thought for a moment. “Five hours. Maybe six.”

Six hours over four days. No wonder he was losing it...

“Must have been the alcohol that made me sleep last night,” he added, thoughtfully. “But I don't particularly want to go down that path again - becoming an alcoholic age 20 doesn’t seem a particularly good idea. Besides which, I dread to think what my father would do to me if I raided his drinks cabinet. Most of his whiskies are older than me. I just... I just wish I could stop _thinking_.”

She didn’t know what to do, so said the only thing that came to mind.

“Do you want to... sleep with me?”

Having been living together for a good few months she felt slightly silly for asking, but he nodded solemnly, and carefully undressed before slipping under the duvet and into her arms. 

“Can I turn the light off?” she asked, unsure, and he did a little huff that almost sounded like a chuckle:

“Makes no difference. No difference at all.”

As she flicked off the light he buried his head into her shoulder, speaking more to himself than her as far as she could work out - it sounded as if he was quoting something, his voice soft and dreamy and barely above a whisper:

“Remember. Everywhere, always, the stars burn and fall through the darkness, neither light nor darkness caring for the sweep of history, for the pain of lives lost or won. Whole civilisations, races, and planets, turning to ash and dust, for such is the weight and inevitability of time. And we must never alter the natural flow of cause and effect.”

As she drifted off to sleep again, she thought she heard him add “But that won’t stop me bending the rules,” but when she concentrated she could tell that he was breathing evenly and she assigned it to being half-asleep herself.

***

Her alarm woke her at 8 (busy day ahead), but although Alex didn’t stir he opened his eyes as soon as she moved.

“Morning,” she said hesitantly, and he did a little half-smile.

“Morning. Merry Christmas?”

She didn’t know how to reply (the simple phrase suddenly seemed so very inappropriate), but he merely sat up, the half-smile widening. 

“So - would you like your Christmas present?”

“Of course... I mean yes. Please,” she replied, a little thrown and unsure about the sharp shift in his mood from earlier. This whole suppressing and pretending wasn’t healthy. But she didn’t know how to phrase that in a way that wouldn’t result in being shot down. And then she was distracted by the prospect of _Christmas Present_. How he could top last year he had no idea, but she was sure he’d thought of something...

Fetching a bag, he brought out a box that looked like it had come from Tiffany’s, except it was orange. He held it out, looking oddly nervous.

“I hope you like it. I... made it myself.”

Having half expected it to be something exotic and European, she carefully undid the silk bow before opening the box, and then had to suppress a gasp.

It _was_ jewellery...

Gleaming against white silk was an intricately woven gold necklace, with a large red pendant that glowed like pure fire. When she eventually was able to tear her eyes away he carefully explained.

“It’s called a Red Point Star.”

“I... I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“You wouldn’t,” he smiled. “Can I put it on you?”

“I... Oh I’ll need to find something that goes with it to wear first!”

The smile deepened.

“Oh you don’t need to wear anything.”

“Shut up you,” she replied, realising that his attempt at normality might not be a bad idea. Especially with the craziness that was Boxing Day in her home. But even when she’d found a dress that didn’t let the diamond down too badly, and he’d gotten dressed in some nice trousers and a proper shirt (without her having to nag, which showed how unsettled he was) she still had to shake her head when she looked at him.

“Alex you look... really bad.”

Turning he studied himself in her mirror, tilting his head to catch the light better, and frowning as he caught her eyes.

“Of course I look bad. My emotional state is manifesting itself physically... Yet another thing I’ve not even begun to master.” A sigh. “The Doctor can walk through war zones and genocide without so much as a hair out of place.”

Gently turning his face towards her she suddenly felt very protective.

“That’s not a good thing. I actually find that... more disturbing.”

He lowered his eyes.

“Suppose. But it sure comes in useful.”

A little later she deposited him on a sofa with a blanket, explaining to her mother how he’d turned up before the crack of dawn, even though he was still unwell. Her mother of course took one look at him, said “Oh you poor thing, you look terrible!” and set off to add chicken soup to her list food needing to be prepared. 

Amanda and Kingstone came down a few moments later with the children, and exclaimed at length about her necklace. Kingstone especially was thoroughly fascinated. 

Studying it carefully, he ended up shaking his head in wonder. 

“I’ve heard about red diamonds, but never seen one. This must have cost...” he stared at Allison before letting his eyes slide to Alex with genuine bafflement. “And the sheer size... Young man, where did you say you got this?”

Alex blew on his chicken soup, and met Kingstone’s eyes calmly.

“Made it myself.”

Looking as if he suspected Alex to be lying through his teeth, Kingstone shook his head again.

“Allison - if he ever tells you where he got it, let me know, OK? That is the most extraordinary piece of jewellery I’ve ever seen.”

Slightly unsettled (especially given Alex’s quietly smug smile) Allison nodded, but then her mother called, and she was soon too caught up in preparations to worry about the oddness surrounding her beautiful present. Still she tried her best to keep an eye on Alex as she went to and fro, and at one point discovered that the neighbour’s ginger tom cat had snuck in, finding Alex deep in conversation with it. 

She had a feeling she should have expected this.

“No, proper nuns, with wimples,” he said, mimicking the head wear as the cat’s eyes narrowed, before it uttered a skeptical _‘Braow’_ (why did cats almost always sound skeptical?) and Alex chuckled.

“Oh I don’t think _you_ are the religious type - the name for starters would have to go...”

Then she remembered that she was supposed to get the snacks up from the cellar, and left him to it. Disappearing off into a little fantasy world was probably good for him. Unless it would make things worse? She really needed to look into how to deal with this. She knew him well enough to be sure that he’d refuse therapy. 

A little later Toby interrupted her snack distribution, literally stopping her by taking hold of the bowl in her hand.

“Allie, can I talk to you?”

“Now?” she asked, distracted, but Toby didn’t move.

“Yes please,” he simply said, and she resignedly nodded acquiescence. He’d not take no for an answer, she knew that much.

They went up to Jimmy’s room to get some quiet space, and Allison sat down on the bed, feeling unhappy and apprehensive. This was the last thing she needed on top of everything else...

“Allison - what happened to Alex?”

She stared at her brother, startled at the unexpected question, and he smiled a smile that wasn’t a smile at all.

“Let me guess - he can’t sleep, can’t stop thinking about what-ever-happened, and refuses to get help?”

“How- how do you-?”

She had half expected her mother to notice that something more than plain illness was afoot, but Toby? Toby wasn’t good with... well, people. And certainly not with reading them.

Toby sighed, and folded his hands.

“Troy. I... met him by chance, gave him my number because... well, he’s just gorgeous. Didn’t hear from him for months after that, had almost forgotten about the whole thing, when he called up one night - and I mean the _middle_ of the night - asking if he could stay, just for the night, because he had nowhere else. You know how mum and dad were always so worried about Ella when she went out? Troy never had anyone worry about him. I can still see him - it was raining, and he was soaked, because he had no money. Didn’t have anything except the clothes he was wearing and his phone. If he hadn’t, by chance, kept my number-”

He broke off, stared into the distance, before taking a deep breath and pulling himself together.

“The bruises faded, but he still has the nightmares, and it’s been more than a year.”

Catching her eyes he slowly continued. “I was going to say I’ve never seen anyone look like that. Until I saw Alex today. That delayed shock is unmistakable.”

Allison didn’t know what to say. The story Toby had told last year (‘I asked Troy to move in because he didn’t have a permanent place to stay, and then romance blossomed’), was light years away from ‘He turned up on my doorstep after having been assaulted, so I took him in’... And she’d threatened to beat him to death with a shovel. No wonder Toby had lost it. (Of course there was assault and _assault_... She didn’t dare ask, although Troy being Troy she had a feeling she could probably make an educated guess.)

And Toby had been dealing with this all on his own... Had maybe hoped that he could share some of it with her, but last year she had been too busy turning into a protective jerk to even notice.

“Sorry Toby,” she finally managed. “I had no idea. Alex said that Troy probably had a difficult upbringing, but I never thought...”

“Oh he was bullied mercilessly. And... someone... _hurt_ him. Screwed him up on a monumental scale, but he refuses to talk about it.”

Shaking her head she took his hand, hoping it wasn’t too late to make amends. “Toby - I’m just now realising that I’ve been a very bad sister. I should have been there for you, instead of trying to decided what was best for you. Just tell me - are you happy?”

“Yes,” he said immediately, smiling like he used to back when they were little and she had saved up to buy him whatever toy he was currently obsessed with. “Yes I am happy. He’s hard work at times, but... I just can’t believe that he’s actually mine. Plus,” and his smile turned fifty shades of mischievous, “he’s like a Swiss army knife in the bedroom.”

“Toby!” she exclaimed, spluttering and withdrawing her hand in order to cover her mouth as she vividly remembered all the times she’d tried to shield him. And then something seemed to unfurl. Some sort of relief, or gratitude - a feeling she’d never experienced before. She had an _older_ brother. She had someone to _lean_ on. She wasn’t alone.

“Toby... What do I do with Alex? How do I... I don’t know... support him? Just - what do I _do_?”

***

When they eventually returned downstairs (after their mother had called several times, before sending Jimmy to fetch them), they stopped in the doorway to the front room. Troy had taken the unoccupied seat on the sofa next to Alex, the tom cat looking as if it was patting Troy on the head with one of its paw as Alex’s eyes were dancing with mirth.

Allison tilted her head, studying them. Troy had obviously decided that he wanted to join Alex in his cat-talking, as the two of them were conversing with the cat with great intensity, and she couldn’t help but voice her thoughts.

“Toby, answer me this. Amanda and Ella have perfectly normal guys - why are the two of us drawn to the weird, damaged ones?”

“They’re far more interesting?” Toby offered, then shrugged. “And Amanda and Ella are - well, you know. So busy rebelling against dad, I don’t think they could cope with someone out of the ordinary.”

Allison had to laugh then. She’d missed Toby’s brutally honest dissections. Then their mother turned up and gave them each a list of jobs to do a mile long.

“Half an hour until the hordes descend!” she said, at which exact moment there was a knock on the door.

“Good heavens!” she exclaimed, throwing off her apron and tossing it at Allison.

“Right. Here we go...”

***

Family, family, family. Family in every nook and cranny. Children playing hide and seek, grandparents and and great-aunts and -uncles remembering yesteryear, cousins sharing photos, and distant relations catching up.

“So you met the King? Seriously?”

Allison nodded, and with alacrity launched into the story. She had told it half a dozen times already, but she still relished it.

“Alex’s family are always at the Cenotaph for Remembrance Sunday, so we were there, me and him and his mum and uncle - as well as Jack and Ianto who are family friends and sort of Secret Service people? And we were right at the front and everything. Oh and then we were joined by Luke Smith and his mother. Yes, _the_ Luke Smith!”

Cousin Beth stared in amazement.

“Oh my god. Didn’t you use to have lots of pictures of him?”

“I can’t believe you remember that! Yes, I did - he was totally my hero when I was little. Alex mentioned once that he was a family friend, but I never knew how close. He’s _so nice_ in real life! And his mother is just adorable. Very old and frail, but seriously charming and they kept going on about how she should be covered in medals. She did lots of ‘covert’ stuff in her youth apparently - maybe she was some sort of undercover agent, I don’t know. Anyway then - after the ceremony - the King came up to us and I thought I was going to faint...”

She didn’t get any further as Alex suddenly hushed everyone in the room, and turned the volume up on the TV. Confused, the gathered relations fell silent as the TV presenter spoke.

“A young doctor is being labelled ‘The Christmas Hero’, after giving his life to save that of a toddler. Our correspondent is in Cardiff...”

The news report that followed told the story a Dr Nathan Fen, a quiet young doctor, who on Christmas Eve threw himself in front of a small boy when a car lost control and swerved onto the pavement - saving the boy’s life, but sustaining fatal injuries and dying at the scene.

Although moving, Allison found the thing slightly distasteful - especially the way the media milked the story for all it was worth, talking to the grateful parents (the mother crying) who claimed that to them he would always be ‘The Christmas Hero’ and they would never forget him, showcasing endless footage of the little lad (who was of course too cute for words), as well as talking to Dr Fen’s neighbours and colleagues who all said that he was very quiet and unassuming and dedicated. On top of all this the poor man apparently did not have any family, but the Mayor of Cardiff had a small press conference to honour the valiant ‘Christmas Hero’, pledging to give him a proper send-off.

She could already imagine the TV drama writers getting ready to dramatise it for next year... Of course they’d recast the main character, as Dr Fen seemed to have been rather light and prematurely balding...

“Alex, are you OK?” she heard her mother asking, and he made a noncommittal noise.

“I... sorry to shush you all...” he looked around the room, oddly lost, “...but I knew him. I didn’t realise that-”

“Oh my god!” her mother exclaimed, immediately rushing to him and giving him a big hug. “What a shock for you. And what a brave man he was! Is there anything we can do? They said something about a charity in his name, didn’t they? Or maybe we could send some flowers for the funeral...”

Chatter broke out again, but Allison suddenly felt a chill go through her.

It was probably a coincidence... but she needed to be sure.

Extracting Alex from the five different cousins who were suddenly keen to give their condolences along with finding out as much information as they could, (“Sorry, but he’s not well! Alex, please come with me...”) she brought him upstairs and sat him down on her bed, taking a seat on the chair beside it, desperately hoping she was wrong.

“Listen... I don’t want to upset you further, but this Dr Fen... Was he one of the Torchwood people?”

Alex nodded, and she could feel her heart sink.

“Nathan. Yes.”

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she pressed her palms together.

“Alex, sorry, but - if this man died on Wednesday, how did he save a toddler on Friday?”

A tired smile.

“With enormous difficulty.”

“Alex please...”

For the longest moment he just studied her, before his eyes narrowed the tiniest fraction.

“If I said that Jack was a time traveller from the future, would you believe me?”

She sighed.

“Don’t. Just don’t.”

Bowing his head, he went very quiet, almost seeming to shrink before her eyes:

“Fine. Not doing that now. Not a good time. Point taken.” 

Then he finally lifted his head again, that terribly sadness evident again.

“Allison, just... Let me try to explain _why_... Unlike Afsana and Sylvia, Nathan had no family. No friends outside Torchwood. He was so quiet even his nextdoor neighbours had barely spoken two words with him in five years. And he saved _the world_ \- more than once, probably. I couldn’t-” he swallowed. “I _needed_ his death to matter, OK? Needed for people to care, needed for _someone_ out in the real world to mourn him now that he’s gone... Too many heroes die unsung. I didn’t want him to be one of them. So we rigged it, Jack and I. I had no idea the story would get picked up by the media though... that must have been Ianto's doing.”

A soft smile, which she ignored completely.

“Alex! A child could have died!”

She was too appalled for words, but the softness in his eyes vanished as he shook his head, leaving only steel and determination.

“A child _is alive_! If not for us he would have been dead.”

“You can’t know that. I... understand that you’re in shock, that you wanted to honour your friend, but _this_?”

Face like a mask, he shook his head, and she knew the argument was lost. The look was unmistakable.

“I _can_ know that. We saved that boy’s life. We just let Nathan take the credit.”

Then suddenly the mask seemed to crack, and he reached out, touched her face. There were tears in his eyes and she could feel the tremor in his hand.

“My Allie - never stop challenging me. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Just this time, _please_ believe me - we saved a life. There was so much death, but we saved a life. And that... was my Christmas.”

Maybe it was the hint of desperation in his voice, or the genuine pleading - the latter of which was something new. But (almost in spite of herself, except he so very clearly believed it himself) she leaned forward and kissed him gently.

“I believe you.”


	20. Chapter 20

Contrary to what Allison had imagined, life after Christmas became easier than before.

She had worried about Alex’s mental stability, but Boxing Day seemed to have been the worst of it, and in the days that followed he managed to find his equilibrium - although with subtle differences. He was more quiet, but also more content...

Regaining ‘his freedom’ (as he had put) didn’t result in him running off, leaving her on her own for the last half year of her studies - quite the opposite. So far he had avoided university as if it was a plague, immersing himself in endless projects - now, however, he came up with the idea of doing not just his BA, but also cramming in a Master’s degree as well as a Doctorate. 

“In _half a year_?” she asked when he first told her, and he nodded happily.

“It’ll be tricky, but fun.”

“Um. Good luck with it...”

And somehow the Powers That Be agreed to his attempt. She didn’t know what he told them, but the upshot was that suddenly his study was full of books and papers, arranged in incredibly neat and organised piles; the clear evidence of a mind organised down to the last molecule - and which managed to project this outwards too. She tried not to be jealous. Her own study was... well, _she_ knew where everything was. (She had banned him from entering and he tactfully never mentioned it.) 

The other difference was the fact that his Uncle suddenly became a part of their lives.

It started a perfectly ordinary Saturday in late January. Alex had spent the best part of the morning rearranging the piles on his desk and adding several more, as well as cleaning the flat (which involved things such as removing invisible dust from all surfaces), when there was a knock on the door, immediately followed by Alex’s uncle sailing through it, coat billowing in his wake and hair like a rooster’s.

“Good morning!” he beamed, looking gorgeously tanned and fit as if he’d stepped in from a hot summer’s day and not cold January mists. 

“Hi,” Allison said (grateful that she’d managed a shower and clothes), as Alex came out of the kitchen, drying a cup. But before he could say anything, Bob the Roomba scooted out from behind the sofa.

“Doctor. It truly is a pleasure to see you again. Hopefully you have been well?” it said, and somewhat to Allison’s surprise he crouched down and patted the dome.

“Bob! Good to see you too! Long time, no see, eh?”

“Indeed. Canine and Mr Smith send their greetings.”

(This made little sense - as Alex’s uncle _was_ Mr Smith, and which dog was it talking about? - but then Allison suspected a few loose wires here or there. Now and again Bob would completely ignore the crumbs and just sit on a corner bleeping to itself and talking in code. Alex might be good at creating artificial intelligence, but even he had his limits...)

The uncle seemed unfazed however, and kept smiling.

“Tell them I’ll drop by soon - I’ve been... a little caught up.”

“Hello Doctor,” Alex cut in, pleasant, but obviously a bit cautious. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Jumping back to his feet his uncle answered, voice so light that even Allison could tell l that something was afoot.

“You asked me have a look at your PhD proposals, remember?”

“Right...” Alex replied. “Let me just put the tea towel away.”

As he vanished into the kitchen Allison stood up, feeling rather awkward (she was sort of the hostess, wasn’t she?) and holding out her hand.

“Um, it’s nice to see you again-”

“Just call me Doctor,” he replied, shaking her hand. “I’m pretty sure we established that last time.”

“OK, Doctor it is,” she said, as his smile dropped and he leaned forward.

“Is he OK?” he asked, nodding towards Alex and the kitchen, and Allison suddenly twigged that this was a ‘checking up on Alex’ visit.

When she got over the surprise she realised that she was both touched and grateful - she kept thinking that Alex was _her_ responsibility, completely forgetting about his family. And the Doctor was very conscientious, she seemed to remember... 

“Yes,” she said quickly and quietly. “He’s doing really well.”

A moment later Alex returned, and uncle and nephew walked off to Alex’s study - Allison following and hovering in the doorway, unable to help her amusement as the Doctor within mere moment reduced impeccable tidiness to chaos, Alex nearly tearing his hair out in frustration.

“No, no, no - maybe, maybe, definitely no-” the Doctor muttered, shuffling the piles around and casually throwing notes in the bin and missing, papers falling like leaves.

“Doctor!” Alex exclaimed, as he clamped his hands down over the Doctor’s. “Stop! Please, just... don’t touch anything. And what was wrong with the last one? That was my favourite!”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, as Alex cautiously let go of his hands.

“You know _exactly_ what was wrong with it. Stop pretending to be stupid.”

Picking up another proposal he scanned it casually, before shooting Alex another look.

“By the way, don’t think I didn’t notice the little stunt you pulled at NASA.”

Alex lowered his eyes, looking somewhere between stubborn and bashful.

“I only shaved off a year. And it was _Adelaide_. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have done something similar...”

“Don’t presume to know what I would do!” the Doctor replied, slowly lowering the paper, and it was like a cloud passing across the sun, the temperature rapidly plummeting.

Alex shook his head, clearly unimpressed with his uncle’s dramatics.

“Right, just spit it out. What is this about?”

The Doctor didn’t move, but his reply had a visible effect on Alex.

“A certain ‘Christmas Hero’...”

Alex swallowed, eyes widening.

“I...”

“Do you have even the _slightest_ idea how much damage you could have caused?” the Doctor asked, eyes fixed on Alex with thinly disguised anger, and voice coldly furious. 

“We were really careful-” Alex began, but this time his uncle nearly exploded.

“Careful? _Careful_? You got _lucky_ , that’s all! Far luckier than you deserve. _One_ wrong step and-” he dragged his hands through his hair, somehow managing to make it even more gravity defying than before. “There could have been Reapers!”

Allison didn’t have a clue what any of this meant, but the impact on Alex was indisputable.

“Reapers?” he whispered, going pale. “I didn’t mean to... I just...”

He closed his eyes, head falling.

“I couldn’t let that boy die. Not after... everything. I _had_ to save him. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

The Doctor, the anger falling off him in an instant, immediately wrapped up his nephew in a big hug.

“And you did. But next time - just ask for help. I’m always here.”

Alex nodded, head buried in the Doctor’s shoulder, and Allison quietly tiptoed out of the doorway. Inadvertedly she had been given the answer to several questions, as well as reassurance.

However he had done it, Alex had saved the little boy, but it had clearly been a stupendously dangerous undertaking. But he’d been called on it, and not argued, just agreed to not do it again... His uncle getting through to him was a relief she couldn’t quite quantify.

("What are Reapers?" she asked later, and Alex fidgeted. "Like... Black Ops? They only turn up if you really screw up on a monumental scale...")

***

She had thought the visit a one-off until the Doctor turned up the following week, mere minutes after Alex had left for a long meeting with Professor Trinder.

“Sorry, he’s going to be a while...” she said, but the Doctor only nodded.

“Good. It’s you I wanted to talk to.”

“Me?” she asked, and he nodded again. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” she replied, and after a moment of indecision he settled himself in an armchair.

“So... you wanted to talk?” Allison said, as she seated herself in the sofa, waiting for him to speak, and he leaned forward, elbows on knees.

“How... is he? How has he been these past few years? I’m not exactly an expert on child-rearing. I’ve tried to do my best, to give him as normal a childhood as I could. Give him what we could never have. But then...”

He buried his head in his hands momentarily, staring out through his fingers, eyes oddly lost. Eventually he lowered his hands again, speaking almost as if to himself.

“Then he... Well, it was all Jack’s doing really, but... Alexander was so _incredibly_ stubborn about the whole thing I had no choice but to do something drastic. Asked his friends to keep an eye on him, which wasn’t the most ideal of arrangements, but then there was _you_ which was a huge weight off my shoulders. Mostly though I’ve kept my distance. Given him some space. Which worked well enough until Christmas... I thought that keeping him here would keep him safe and sheltered. Comparatively, at least. But it’s too late now.”

Allison didn’t know what to say. It was a little like Christmas two years ago when her mother had talked to her like an adult for the first time... Seeing Alex’s uncle (the authority figure, the one he was rebelling against) as just a person, someone thrown into the deep end as father-figure for a child, and just trying his best was an eyeopener to say the least. There had been no guide book. No help. It was sobering. 

The Doctor, unaware of her thoughts, kept talking. Clearly the ability to natter on was a family trait.

“He’s... too clever. That’s always been the problem, and I never knew what to do with him. His father, of course, just wants to exploit it, so I did my best to make sure he was happy and safe and loved. But the cleverness... What do you do with that? Figured it was better to make him aware, as that would hopefully make him cautious. Which it did, for the most part.”

A frown, as he pursed his lips and his eyes narrowed.

“That whole business with the ‘Christmas Hero’ is the first time he’s done anything genuinely hazardous. And don’t tell him this, but it was _flawless_... And he’s only 20, hardly more than a child and has barely even begun his proper teaching...”

Shaking his head, he sighed, and Allison finally managed to find her voice.

“Why are you telling me all this?”

He seemed surprised at the question, and then rather at a loss to answer it.

“Well...” he reached up and grabbed the back of his neck, studying her. “You love him. Yet you’re not in awe of him. And you challenge him. If only-”

He stopped, and she waited for a moment before prompting.

“If only?”

“Nothing. Nothing. Just- nothing.” He dislodged his hand and waved a finger at her: “Actually I’ve been thinking about maybe trying to teach him a bit more of the family history - where he comes from, that kinda thing. Give him some proper perspective. There is a... distant relative who would be perfect, except she and his father have a... difficult back story. I’m not sure how she’ll react to him. But nothing ventured, nothing gained, eh?”

He was being avoid-y, but really she couldn’t challenge him - he didn’t owe her anything, and this heart-to-heart was far more than she’d ever expected.

***

After that, he began to drop in regularly. Alex would roll his eyes and say something about him being ‘without a companion’, which Allison found a hilariously old-fashioned turn of phrase, but nevertheless he’d turn up more or less once a week, helping himself to anything in the kitchen and often staying the evening, playing cards or watching TV or whatever else he could think of. He seemed to have the attention span of a three year old, which was odd when considered in the light of... everything else.

One Wednesday night the Doctor decided that they were watching ‘A Matter of Life and Death’ - a film Allison had never even heard of, but that was apparently a classic. It centred around a WWII pilot who was supposed to have died, but didn’t, and there was lots of stopping time whilst characters discussed all the issues, and whether falling in love entitled the hero to a life despite the fact that he was technically dead... All of which Allison decided she could live without seeing through, as she had to get up early. Alex and the Doctor barely noticed when she went off to bed, being utterly swept up. 

She had trouble getting to sleep, however, and decided that a glass of water might be necessary. Opening the bedroom door stealthily, she noticed that uncle and nephew were now sitting next to each other on the sofa, their backs to her and the glare from the TV dancing bright shadows across the walls, and she was just about to tiptoe out when Alex spoke, his voice so quiet that it immediately caught her attention, freezing her to the spot.

“Can you actually stop time?”

“Sure,” his uncle answered lightly. “Bit dull in the long run though. Could loop it, if you wanted - same day repeated, Groundhog Day style. Or make a pocket universe. Mind you, they’re complicated. And unstable. You’d just wink out of existence, and I believe that would rather defeat the object of the exercise...”

Alex nodded, and when he spoke his voice was oddly tight, as if he was fighting back tears.

“I don’t want it to end.”

“I know,” his uncle said, voice as soft as a caress, looping an arm around Alex’s shoulders. “I know.”

They fell silent after that, Alex resting his head on the Doctor’s shoulder, and Allison silently withdrew, the glass of water forgotten.

_‘I don’t want it to end’..._

What had he meant? Sure their life here at Cambridge was a little like living in a bubble, but the rest of their lives was a new sort of adventure waiting around the corner - different, but exciting and wonderful. 

Maybe it was the Christmas trauma rearing its head again? She wanted to ask him, but it had been such a private moment that she didn’t want to admit to snooping, however accidentally.

***

_Spring 2028_  
The last evening of term, and the Student Union bar was nicely crowded. Plenty of students had gone home already, but those that were left were happy to party twice as hard.

At one point someone got the jukebox to play _‘I Kissed a Boy and I Liked It’_ (the latest version of about a million, and that was without counting the Katy Perry original with Girl instead of Boy), and every student in the place seemed to join in, singing loudly - and mostly off key - although it was the enthusiastic participation of Josh and Matt that made Allison take notice, especially as Alex had gone very quiet as they sang, winking at him. Jamie, of course, never sang, instead silently concentrating on hir gin and tonic.

“Go on then,” Josh eventually said, leaning forward, eyes dancing. “Tell us allllll about it. Was it good? It looked good to us...”

Alex looked from Josh to Matt, before his eyes narrowed, and when he spoke his voice was low and angry.

“How the _hell_...”

“Jack!” Josh said with a leer, Matt picking up the thread: 

“It’s the screen saver on his phone. He didn’t really _show_ us, we just... happened to see it.”

Alex was now staring at them, incredulous, although at least he seemed to know what they were talking about. Unlike Allison.

“He uses it as a _screen saver_?” he asked, as the other two were fighting giggles.

“Well,” Josh replied once he’d managed to find his voice again, “it was obviously a memorable moment. Thank the Lord for CCTV eh? Didn’t think about that, did you...”

For a moment Alex just sat there, seemingly frozen, before abruptly getting to his feet, turning to Allison.

“Allie - please excuse me. I need to go kill Jack. Should be back in not too long.”

However as he started walking away Matt jumped from his seat and did a proper rugby tackle, throwing Alex to the ground, before promptly sitting on him.

“Don’t kill Jack. Besides, we need a word with you.”

“Really?” Alex said, voice a little crushed.

“Oh yes. You’re a liar Alexander Saxon!”

“And what are you going to do? Tell your dad?”

Josh walked over and looked down at him, victory in his eyes.

“No. We just want you to admit it. Out loud. With no caveats.”

A beat, then Alex sighed deeply.

“Fine. I lied. To your faces. Repeatedly. I am not straight. As a matter of fact I am so far from straight that I am practically a circle. And now my last, tiny little shred of normality has been destroyed. _Thank_ you. I hope you’re happy.”

Shooting Josh a victorious smile Matt stood up, letting Alex get up to a sitting position on the floor, whilst Josh shook his head.

“And what about us? Don’t you think we deserved the truth? All this time, all these years, I had you in the ‘unavailable’ box. Just... what a waste.”

Brow drawing together Alex studied him, with that unnerving concentration that Allison knew meant that the rest of the world had fallen away. The way he’d looked at Adelaide. A sort of breathless anticipation.

“Josh... are you serious? You’d have been interested?”

“Well I... might have been?” Josh replied, a touch of exasperation in his voice. “Dammit you’re... _you_!”

“I thought me being me was the _problem_ ,” Alex replied drolly and Josh seemed to hesitate.

“Well at least I would have known it was an _option_! I could have had the pleasure of... turning you down.”

Alex nodded slowly, strangely wary, but they were still focussed on each other to such an extent that Allison wanted to wave a hand in front of his face. There was this whole chunk of Alex that he shared with only his friends, a part she couldn’t reach - or rather, that he wouldn’t share with her. Something that allowed him and Josh to have a whole conversation that she was completely cut out of. (Conversation was not the right word. They were basically _flirting_. Right in front of her...)

Time to take charge.

“Josh - hands off Alex. Even the metaphorical ones.”

Glancing at Jamie, who was looking like sie was wishing hirself a million miles away, Allison shot Josh a significant look.

“And I don’t think your fiancée is too happy about this either. Now if you’ll excuse me I would like to talk to _my boyfriend_ in private.”

Without waiting for any kind of reply she grabbed her coat with one hand and Alex with the other before steering him out of the Student Union, not stopping until she’d found a nice secluded bench where they could talk in peace.

For a moment she allowed herself to wish for a _normal_ boyfriend, one where she didn’t have to explain everything all the time, one where she could have normal arguments about looking at scantily clad girls, not suddenly wanting to sleep with his best friend. And this one was easy compared to the thorny moral and ethical issues that cropped up on a regular basis. 

‘More interesting’ Toby whispered in her head, and she closed her eyes and prayed that he was right. 

Alex had stayed mercifully silent, waiting for her to say something. 

“I... don’t even know where to start, although I suppose Jack would be as good a place as any. Were you planning on ever actually _telling_ me that you’d been kissing him?”

“I didn’t kiss _Jack_!” he replied, indignantly. “He’s like my big brother, it’d be... wrong. I...” A delicate pause. “I kissed Ianto.”

“Okay, that’s just...” she stopped, trying to wrap her head around the revelation, “... _weird_. Alex... you not being straight is not exactly a surprise. But why did you lie to me?”

He sighed, and she could see the grief rear its head again.

“It was Christmas. I wanted to cheer Jack up. It seemed like a good idea. Plus, I was _incredibly_ drunk. That’s not an excuse, I’d probably have done it anyway, but... _So_ drunk. Can’t quite remember it as clearly as I’d like, I’m sad to say.”

“But why didn’t you tell me? A kiss is nothing compared to whatever it was you did saving that boy...”

He studied her for the longest moment, before he slowly shook his head, and if the earth had actually cracked open between them she couldn’t have felt him slip more out of her grasp.

“It was private,” he said eventually, and she threw her hands in the air.

“Alex we’re in a _relationship_! One kiss isn’t much, and really I don’t mind at all, but _don’t lie to me_! You can’t just label something ‘private’ and then keep it from me, that’s not how relationships _work!_ ”

He didn’t answer. Instead he just _looked at her_ , completely still and silent, and she suddenly felt a chill going through her that had nothing to do with the cool evening air. 

“Alex... Is there something you want to tell me?”

His eyes narrowed a fraction, like he was carefully weighing something in his mind, and when he spoke the cautiousness in his words was unmistakable.

“What if it was more than a kiss? Not in physical terms, but... Oh, I can’t describe it. Very intimate.”

She stared at him, uncomprehending.

“What the hell are you talking about? And what exactly did you and Ianto _do_?”

He waved his hand dismissively.

“I’m not talking about Ianto. That really was nothing more than a drunken kiss. I’m talking about... Jamie. And me.”

At first it didn’t make sense. Maybe it was all some sort of elaborate joke because she’d over reacted?

“ _Jamie?_ What do you mean? _Josh’s_ Jamie?”

“Do you know any others?” he shot back, and she could only blink. Jamie was... Well, sie’d _thawed_ somewhat, but Allison still had the distinct impression that anyone who tried it on and wasn’t Josh was likely to come away with a broken face. At least.

“I don’t understand. You... and _Jamie_? Are you serious?”

He simply nodded - as though it was a normal conversation; as though he wasn’t rapidly making the ground beneath her feet disappear. She was desperately trying to remember past interactions between Alex and Jamie, clues she might have missed, significant looks she hadn’t noticed at the time...

The only thing that sprang to mind was the first time they’d met up after Christmas. Jamie had laid a hand on Alex’s arm saying simply: “I heard. I’m sorry.” Alex had momentarily closed his eyes, before thanking hir, but other than that-

 _Oh._ Jamie’s face only moments before. The discomfort hadn’t been discomfort. It had been _guilt_. 

And she’d been so worried about Helena at the circus, and Adelaide at NASA - the real problem had been there all along, right under her nose... 

“It was only the once,” he continued, studying her carefully, “and I still don’t know how to categorise it.”

Somewhere inside she was simultaneously going hot and cold. It wasn’t just the betrayal, it was the fact that she’d thought that he might be many things, but at least he was faithful... The truth was beyond bitter:

“You are _unbelievable_! Are you seriously trying to tell me that not only did you cheat on me, you cheated on me with _your best friend’s fiancé?”_

He was still much too quiet, and she wanted to shake him.

“Can I explain what actually happened? Because it’s not exactly what you think...”

“You did something you shouldn’t and then you lied about it. Seems pretty straightforward to me. I don’t really want the details.”

“Listen! It was the day after they got engaged-”

“The day after! Bloody hell. I thought it was something to do with acting out after seeing those people die. But no. You choose-”

“Let me _finish_!” he said, and she shut her mouth angrily. Damn him. Damn him to _hell_. And Jamie too. What a _fantastic_ basis for marriage sie’d created.

“I invited Jamie over just to chat, since I figured sie might need someone to talk to. What with being so terrified.”

She could still hear the music from the Student Union, the chatter of happy voices. It was like a parallel world, utterly cut off from this bench in the darkness where everything seemed to be falling apart. Had she been happy just 5 minutes ago?

“Sorry what?”

“Jamie. Terrified. Remember me, Christmas before last? I know terrified of love when I see it. I thought I could help. And I did.”

And now he was casting himself in the role of hero. It just kept getting better!

“And you were so great that Jamie just decided to jump you in gratitude.”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Metaphorically speaking, yes. Jamie is half-alien, remember. Half _Star Poet_ , and highly telepathic. And sie... _sang_ to me. Mind to mind.”

He briefly laid his fingertips on her temples, like something out of Star Trek, before letting his hands fall, voice dreamy as he continued, eyes distant and smiling at something only he could see.

“You know that part in the second movement of Concierto de Aranjuez - when the music builds and builds and then it all seems to... _overflow_ , and it’s almost like a physical release, making you shiver? It was a bit like that, just... more. I really don’t have the words to describe it. But that’s the nearest. It was... unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.”

Of course, she though to herself. _Of course_. Something new and different and unusual. He’d not go off and sleep with some busty chav, no he’d go for the weird alien... It made sense, but that didn’t really make it hurt any less. And she was familiar enough with sci-fi tropes to be able to label it.

“So it was mind sex, is what you’re saying?”

Abruptly snapped out of his mood, he refocussed on her, eyes darkening.

“I’m not going to let you turn it into something... _sordid!”_

Her jaw dropped, and her feelings immediately regained focus, irate and incredulous.

“Not going to let me-? Are you _fucking kidding_? You cheated on me, and you _dare_ tell me how to label it?” 

“It wasn’t _human_!” he shot back, with such feeling that she was genuinely taken aback. “You can’t _use_ human labels!”

“But then what the hell am I supposed to use?”

A beat, as they stared at each other, furious, then the anger seemed to vanish as quickly as it had arrived and he shook his head, looking strangely lost.

“I don’t know. It’s one reason I never told you...”

Trying to steady herself, she took a few deep breaths, gathering her thoughts and attempting to get an overview of what he’d been saying. 

“Are you even sorry?” she asked eventually, and he tilted his head, studying her very carefully.

“I’m sorry I lied about it. And I’m sorry you’re upset.”

“But you’re not sorry it happened?”

He shook his head.

“No.”

She had to bury her head in her hands to steady herself. It was the same as every other time. He couldn’t even _see_ it. Or if he did, he just chose to ignore it... 

Time to be brutal. This wasn’t about differing points of view or morals, it was about the two of them, and if they couldn’t work it out then they didn’t have a future:

“And _that’s_ the problem. You put your... _pleasure_ above _my feelings_!”

As his mouth fell open, she stood up, looking down on him, seething and hurt and determined not to give an inch.

“I suggest you do a _lot_ of thinking about what exactly you want from this relationship. Because this? Is not OK.”

Taking a deep breath she quickly tried to work out what to do now... They’d not had any concrete plans, except for the fact that it was his birthday just after Easter. But as it was, she didn’t think she could share a bed with him just yet. Living together made things... difficult in ways she’d not anticipated.

Mind made up, she spoke.

“I think I’ll catch a late train and just head home. I need... some space. Maybe you could go stay with your uncle, as he seems to be the only person in your whole family who actually has a working moral compass.”

His eyes flickered at this, but then he reached out, catching her hand.

“But you and me? What does ‘space’ mean? Are you breaking up with me... Again?”

She leaned in then, studying him, the darkness rendering his face in hues of blue, and his soft brown eyes black and alien and unknowable.

“Not a chance. That would just let you off the hook. You are a goddamn _genius_ Alex, there is no way the rules of relationships are too complicated for you. And if you love me _at all_ you’re going to do a lot better from now on. Understood?”

He nodded, and she turned and walked away.

***

Matt had gone for more drinks as Jamie’s phone vibrated, and sie brought it out, seeing a new message from Alex.

_‘Told Allie about you and me. She didn’t take it well. Am going to the Doctor’s for Easter. S.’_

As Jamie absorbed the news, Josh leaned over, reading the message before sie could stop him. He frowned, lifting his eyes to study Jamie.

“You and Alex?”

This... was not how it was supposed to happen. Sie would have to be careful, as she seemed to have been thrown into confession mode with no hope of escape.

“I sang to him. As I told you, he showed me how to...” sie put a hand to Josh’s temple, letting the tiniest flicker of desire register before letting go, “...and I wanted to try it. That’s how I discovered that I could sing.”

“Right...”

Josh didn’t seem to know what to say. Singing was their private, their very own, special thing. Theirs and no one else’s...

“Sorry I never told you. But you had so many before me. And I had none. This way it felt... like we were even?”

“Even?” Josh asked, taken aback, and Jamie pressed hir advantage immediately.

“Besides... I didn’t want to make you jealous.”

Breathing an internal sigh of relief Jamie could see Josh’s mind flipping everything over, reassessing what sie had said, eyes changing from hostile to curious. Jamie could have kissed Alex (again) for the flirting earlier on - it had paved the way perfectly.

“What was it like?” Josh asked, and Jamie let hir mind slip back, delving into the memory with practised ease. 

“It was like... touching eternity. Bright and golden and... impossible. He is... you have no idea.”

Josh looked thoroughly mesmerised, and Jamie hoped this would be sufficient to explain that the temptation had been utterly irresistible... 

The moment was interrupted by Matt returning, balancing three glasses in his hands. 

“The queues aren’t that bad, but I think everyone must have ordered 10 drinks each! I didn’t get anything for Alex and Allie, they can fight that battle themselves...”

Noticing the silence, he looked from Josh to Jamie.

“What happened?”

Returning hir phone to hir pocket, Jamie tried to smile.

“They... had a bit of a row apparently.”

Matt’s face fell.

“Really? Over the kiss?”

Josh shot Jamie a swift look, then replied, a little uncomfortable.

“There was more to it, I think. But I’m sure they’ll patch things up.”

Matt sat down and took a sip of his lager.

“Hope so. It’s Alex’s 21st in a few weeks, and then it’s the last term... It can’t end like this, can it?”

***

The train was late, which was serendipitous in the extreme as otherwise Allison wouldn’t have caught it.

No sooner had she found a seat, however, than a strange-looking man with greasy hair and a coat that looked approximately a hundred years old decided that she was his new confidante.

“It was aliens, you know!”

“I’m sorry?” she replied, and he tilted his head upwards, indicating the bland announcer welcoming new passengers aboard.

“They’re saying it was technical difficulties that delayed the train, but it was aliens. I saw _something_ ,” he gave her a significant look, “out there!”

Despite her very personal reasons for happily blaming everything on ‘bloody aliens’ ( _damn_ Jamie!), her logic won out.

“And why, exactly, would aliens delay this train? We’re hardly going to space.”

“Oooh they have their own reasons. You never know. Something is going to happen, mark my words. Something big. I can feel it... Just you wait and see!”

Deciding that life was too short for nutters on trains, she put in her ear phones and tried to concentrate on the mess that was her personal life.

Trying to work out exactly what the issue was (other than being angry and hurt - don't cry yet, she told herself), she thought it might be disappointment. She’d thought him... _better_ than that. He had flaws, certainly, but she knew them. Flaws consistent with being a genius that could turn his hand to anything, not to mention all the issues arising from his parentage and upbringing.

Indeed, sometimes his genius was such that it almost made her think there had to be more to him than what met the eye...

She supposed that tonight had been an unwelcome eye opener. Despite all his brilliance, he was still fallible and far too human. Tempted by a pretty face and something different and exciting (something exciting enough to keep Josh enthralled) - yeah, he was just human. 

Or, getting right down to it - just a _man_. 

Still, she would have to make up a story for her parents. ‘He cheated on me with a half-alien’ wouldn’t work in any shape or form. What had her life come to that this was the reality of her situation? ‘Got drunk and kissed a boy’ would have to do. And it wasn’t even a lie...

Leaning back in the seat, _'I don’t want it to end’_ came back to her, and her eyes hardened.

He’d have to fight for it.

 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crossing over to the Roda 'verse, this ficlet: [Guileless Child 3/3](http://archiveofourown.org/works/422821/chapters/705732) gives you an insight into Alex's life away from Allison, and his first proper meeting with Roda. If you're not familiar with Roda, don't worry, the ficlet does a marvellous job of sketching in her background story.


	21. Chapter 21

The bleeping of her phone woke her, and Allison glanced round the bedroom groggily, before locating the sound and attempting to read the new message that was flashing - and then rereading it several times as her brain began rebooting.

_Allie_

_I wrote you a letter. It was a beautiful letter, terribly clever and with subheadings and everything. But then (due to complicated circumstances, you can blame Robin Hood if you like) (indirectly, obviously) I realised that truly I am a fantastically privileged spoiled arrogant entitled jerk (something I do believe you’re aware of) and that just because the wonders of the universe happen to be at my fingertips doesn’t mean that I have a right to them._

_So, in short, I am sorry._

_I feel I need to add the caveat that it's not easy to be sorry that it happened at all (because it was wonderful), but basically you were right and I was wrong and please forgive me?_

_Yours,  
S._

It was four o’clock in the morning (he really had a thing for stupidly timed stuff), and she half-suspected that this was a dream. Robin Hood? Honest to God _apologies?_

Because it was without a doubt a proper apology. Mr I’m-the-stubbornest-of-them-all had capitulated, lock, stock and barrel.

As this sank in, she found herself calling him. Just to make sure that it was really real and not a dream.

“Allie!” he replied after a moment. “I didn’t think you were awake. It’s... early. I think?”

"Four am to be precise. I just... what _happened?”_ she asked, and he hesitated momentarily.

“Someone... helped me to... gain perspective?”

He stopped, and she could faintly hear voices in the background, before he spoke again, the words obviously not meant for her ears only.

“Although if that certain someone doesn’t stop referring to me as a ‘Tot’ I’m- Oh great, now she’s _laughing_! Why do I have a feeling she’ll be thinking up far worse monikers in no time at all...”

“She _who_?” Allison asked, curious, and he chuckled.

“Very distant relation. Hates my father - and with good reason - so never thought she’d take to me. Especially considering the waffle incident...”

”Alex - I’m not awake enough for this. I just wanted to say that if you’re properly genuine, then I’d like to see you and talk through it.”

***

After that everything turned lovely. They celebrated his birthday and went back to uni and everything was fine. Better than fine, even. There was sunshine and studying for exams, and Alex was clearly going out of his way to make everything as perfect as possible. Some days they’d hire a punt, load it up with books (both the paper variety and the electronic kind), blankets, parasols, and a big hamper, and go up or down the river, passing the day in blissful idyll.

The only issue was Alex’s unwillingness to discuss his future plans, although he encouraged her to go for an ‘Astronomy and Astrophysics MSc by research’ in Manchester. This had several things going for it, including Manchester being the largest university in the country, with outstanding facilities (as well as Professor Brian Cox, of course) plus the family factor, as Toby had lived there for several years by now and said he knew people who could find a her - or them, if Alex tagged along - a good flat.

But then came The Longest Day - and the aftermath.

Looking back, later, it was a clear turning point. The doors that she’d suspected to be there had been thrown wide open for a moment, and it had been her own choice not to open them again... 

Yet at the time she had been too plain unsettled to do anything else - and it wouldn’t have changed the eventual outcome anyway. 

However the most immediate effect had been to embrace life. She had never thought how anything other than everyday issues - or Alex’s peculiarities - could ever threaten their life, or their future... The Longest Day taught her differently, even though some of the lessons didn't sink in until much later.

***

_Saturday, 3rd of June 2028_  
It began at dawn, when Alex sat bolt upright in their bed, shaking.

“Alex?” she asked, and lifted herself up on her elbow when he didn’t answer.

“Something’s here,” he said, staring into space, looking as if he’d had a proper nightmare.

“In the flat?” she said, suddenly feeling a chill going through her, but he only shook his head. “No... Much bigger. I felt... I need to talk to the Doctor.”

Reaching for his phone, it yielded no response when he tried dialling the Doctor’s number, after which he tried Jack, and still got no response.

“This is bad, this is very very bad...” he whispered, and although she wanted to say something comforting she was stopped by the look in his eyes.

Jumping out of bed he went into the sitting room, switching on the main screen, trying for the 24 hour news. But the screen only flickered with a message that an emergency service would soon be up and running and not to worry.

Retrieving the seldom used keyboard, Alex sat himself down on the sofa and with utmost concentration began typing - and as Allison watched the screen split into several factions... Not unusual in itself, except for the symbols that started appearing.

First came UNIT and Torchwood - the latter seemingly frozen and swiftly discarded, whilst Alex tapped in some code or other which apparently allowed him access to UNIT’s top secret unfolding news.

At the same time he opened up windows for the FBI, CIA, NATO, and various other army sites... information - or lack thereof - scrolling past too fast to follow. 

Too fast for her at least - Alex seemed to be reading them all simultaneously, muttering to himself unhappily.

“Not enough...” he said after a few minutes, clearing them all away, except for one dark and unexplained corner that he left open. 

Before she could ask, Allison’s attention was stolen by the appearance across the remainder of the screen of a symbol that looked like an A with a head and odd spindly wings... It was vaguely familiar, and without moving he answered her unspoken question.

“The Archangel Network. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this because it’s just so darn _fiddly_. I’ve got all of Dad’s security to crack, not to mention I’ve got to do it without tripping up any of the Doctor’s booby traps... At least I’ve already made a start adding my own stuff. Although not enough. I thought I had time...”

His voice drifted off, as he concentrated on the cryptic symbols that were now filling the screen, and Allison pulled her dressing gown closer around her, staring at the boy on the sofa as if she’d never seen him before.

“Alex... What- No _how_ -”

“Cleverest boy in the world,” he replied, not taking his eyes off the screen, hands flying over the keys.

“I could hack into anything by the time I was five. And _this_ -” he added with an oddly dismissive wave of his hand, “-is my inheritance. Although Dad would not be pleased if he knew what I was doing...”

Too many questions still unanswered Allison opened her mouth, only to stop, speechless, as the screen transformed itself from unintelligible code to a map of the world.

The view made Alex lift a hand to his mouth in shock.

“Oh no...”

Swiftly hitting the keys a few more times the view jumped around, and with a slow, sickening realisation Allison began to grasp what she was seeing.

Every major city in the world appeared to be covered in some sort of dome, see-through but shimmering like glass.

“What is it? What’s happening?” she asked, and he shook his head.

“I don’t know. I don’t _know_.”

Slowly turning his head, he looked at her with actual fear in his eyes.

“It’s like Christmas all over again. I... I don’t know what to do! Except this is... So much bigger. And I might be clever but this is far, far beyond me.”

His hand was wrapped around something (his pendant? He had a pendant she seemed to remember. Had he been wearing it last night?) so tightly his knuckles were going white, and she didn’t know what to say when the small black rectangle in the corner chose that moment to pop up and fill the screen, the words ‘Subwave Network Active’ unfurling in a corner.

A second later Jack’s face appeared, his surroundings in darkness and his face so grim Allison couldn’t quite reconcile it with the flirtatious man she’d met previously.

Before Alex could say a word, Jack pointed a finger straight at him.

“Stay!”

“But-”

“I have less than a minute, so listen. You _stay_ where you are. Don’t try to help, don’t attempt to access anything, don’t _move_ unless told so by me or the Doctor. However if you get the signal, get yourself the hell to safety. _No_ heroics, understood?”

Alex had gone very pale, but he nodded.

“Understood.”

Jack’s face softened a little, although his voice was still harsh and commanding:

“Whatever happens... Afterwards _I_ will come to _you_. On _no account_ try to find me. However long it takes - I’ll get back to you. We need you _safe_ , OK?”

Alex nodded again, but this time when he replied his voice was barely above a whisper.

“See you on the other side Big Brother.”

“See you,” Jack replied, before a woman’s face appeared, mostly in shadow but eyes bright and vivid.

“Stay safe Tot!”

“Thanks Redjay,” he replied quietly, the ghost of a smile appearing on his face. “And Good Hunting.”

She bared her teeth in a feral smile (it looked like she had feathers in her hair and what Allison would normally have called ‘tribal painting’ on her face, but it was probably just the light), and then the connection cut out.

Allison stared for the longest time, then turned to Alex.

“What now?”

“Now... we wait. And try to stop people panicking.”

The Archangel symbol returned to the screen, slowly swirling, and he looked at with an expression she couldn’t quite understand.

“Alex. Please-”

“End of the world,” he said slowly. “Maybe. Possibly. Probably. Although if they - whoever ‘they’ are - have domed the towns rather than just blasted them I’m guessing it’s a hostage situation rather than a straightforward invasion. Wish I-”

He swallowed and turned to her.

“You know how I’ve been talking about my own projects... One of them was attempting to use the Archangel network as an early warning system for situations like this. But it would need both NASA and UNIT on board and I kept putting it off. Don’t know if it would have helped today of course, but it might...”

She didn’t know what to say, and her feelings clearly showed on her face. He smiled joylessly.

“’And with these things on thy mind, dost thou lie down and rise again among all the sahibs’ little sons at the madrissah and meekly take instruction from thy teachers?’”

“What?” she asked, so utterly thrown that if gravity had suddenly been suspended it couldn’t have made her more disoriented.

“Told you to read Kim... Although that’s not important now. Suppose we best get dressed as there’ll still be plenty to do. Local government level mind you, so it’ll be more like purgatory, but that’s probably what I need.”

He stood up, then seemed to notice her properly for the first time. She wasn’t sure why, but she seemed to be shaking.

“Allie,” he said softly, covering the distance between them in two steps and wrapping her up in a hug. “I’m sorry.”

“Amanda and her family are in London,” she said, fighting against tears. “What’s going to happen to them?”

“If we’re lucky they’ll be fine.”

“And if not...”

Holding her arms he looked at her calmly, his voice perfectly level when he replied.

“The whole planet could be destroyed.”

Pulling away she almost screamed at him, because he was just... _unnatural_.

“How can you be so _calm_? How can you just-”

She wanted to shake him - _force_ some kind of emotion to the surface. The lack of reaction was so abnormal that it made her want to run - except there was nowhere to run _to_ , because the planet was being taken over by aliens and somewhere she could feel that knowledge slowly sinking in with a terrifying reality that she wasn’t sure how to cope with.

He didn’t move.

“Because I’m _different_ and I’m _damaged_. Because I learned that everything ends and everything dies when I was eight years old. Because I look at you every single day and remember that in a hundred years time you’ll be gone and it hurts more than I can explain... This stupid planet is my _home_ and all I want to do is just to go out there and _destroy_ whoever is threatening us and make sure everyone is safe! And I can’t.”

She opened her mouth, but he shook his head.

“Before you say anything - it's nothing to do with being a hero, it's about having a goddamn _lunatic_ for a father and being brought up to look at everything as rightfully mine. And it’s-”

Swallowing he held up a hand, before taking a deep breath.

“So I’m going to go do what I can to help out right here, and try not to go crazy.”

“OK...”

“And I think I can probably rig the Subwave Network so you can speak to the rest of your family.”

She’d have hugged him, except she still felt paralysed - a feeling that didn’t leave her all day. It was an awful, sick feeling, and she was almost grateful for Alex dragging her along to help out, as trying to help at least kept her from just curling up in a corner, crying.

Alex himself was everywhere - organising, helping, reassuring - an oasis of calm that seemed to know everyone in the whole of Cambridge (“I spent two years learning every trade I could - I _do_ know all of this town,” was his nonplussed answer when she brought it up), and who could rally the most dejected and despairing of people. (“Have seen the Doctor do this more times than I can count - it’s easy when you know how...”)

Still, it was The Longest Day, and sometimes Allison could see Alex’s facade fracture... It would only last for a moment, but the naked frustration and fear would shine through, reassuring her that he still had normal, human feelings beneath the mask. (His mother was in London, she knew. He didn't mention this once.) She never stopped to consider what suppressing it all might do. Not until the message of all-clear came in the falling darkness.

The Council Hall where she was erupted in joy and for endless minutes she was swept up in the ecstasy, before trying to get in touch with Amanda and making sure everyone was OK.

It had been at least ten minutes before she even began wondering where Alex could be... And another five before she began worrying when he didn’t answer his phone.

Eventually she got hold of Matt - someone who had of course taken to the crisis-work as a duck to water, happy to put his medical-student skills to good use.

“Allison - thank god you’re there. Alex is... Just come down to the Red Lion and you’ll see,” he said, the urgency in his voice such that she didn’t ask more questions, just set off immediately.

The Red Lion was a large lion statue that had originally been situated in a shopping mall (called Lion Yard apparently) but had - after some years out of the public eye - been put up in the main square by Great St Mary’s Church, on a very tall plinth to stop students climbing it.

When she reached the square, she realised that Alex had once again defied the rules, and her heart sank.

He was sitting astride the Red Lion itself, a bright orange traffic cone on his head, leading the crowded square in a rousing rendition of Jerusalem - she’d heard the singing from afar, and when she reached the square the crowd had reached the second verse.

> _Bring me my Bow of burning gold;_  
>  _Bring me my Arrows of desire:_  
>  _Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold!_  
>  _Bring me my Chariot of fire!_
> 
> _I will not cease from Mental Fight,_  
>  _Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand:_  
>  _Till we have built Jerusalem,_  
>  _In England's green & pleasant Land_

Thankfully she managed to find Matt quickly, although the look of relief on his face didn’t exactly help.

“Matt - why is he up there?”

Matt pulled a face.

“I believe the technical term is ‘high as a kite’. Quite literally.”

“I’m sorry?”

“From what I gathered talking to the lads he was with, they decided to celebrate. And not by getting drunk.”

“You mean _drugs_?”

He pulled a face again.

“I wasn’t there. But as you can see, he’s...” he waved a hand. “Very exuberant.”

Taking a deep breath she tried to gather herself. She wished she could say that this came as a surprise, but she could almost hear him going ‘Why not?’ 

“I don’t suppose you know _what_ he took?” she asked, and Matt shook his head.

“Sorry...”

Worry began shining out of him and Allison nodded, trying to gather her thoughts. Even if Matt couldn’t help, he’d know which people to call at the hospital if worst came to the worst. Now all she needed was to get Alex...

Determinedly working her way through the throng, she called to him once the singing stopped.

“Allison!” he laughed when he noticed her, and she clamped down on the urge to yell at him for being stupid. There would be plenty of time...

“Come down!” she shouted instead, and thankfully he nodded acquiescence.

Tossing his cone down to the crowd, he then asked them to move, which they did with loud cheers as they saw him carefully climb up onto the Lion’s back, standing as straight as an arrow, arms outstretched to keep his balance.

Allison felt her heart plummet. She’d had enough terror for one day, and her cries off “Stop! What are you doing?” didn’t carry over the shouts of the crowd to jump...

Moving to the side of the clear space she watched him (as she had so many times in the circus), the way he concentrated and measured... Except here there was no safety net, no sawdust, no trained professionals... And he was very far from sober.

Then he tilted his head, a wide grin breaking out - so _Saxon_ she almost froze. 

“New song!” he declared and began singing, the crowd eagerly joining in, Take That clearly being popular enough still for people to remember the words.

> _You light the skies up above me  
>  A star, so bright you blind me..._

He was watching her carefully, gauging her reaction, but she found herself unable to concentrate on anything except the leap itself. The perfect elegance of the jump (with added spin and flourish, of course) drew huge cheers, and he landed on the ground with utmost grace, bowing that perfect circus bow towards the now ecstatic crowds, before encouraging them to keep singing.

Allison however felt like she was ready to faint, before running forwards, nearly shaking him.

“Alex! What the hell are you doing?”

He didn’t reply. Instead he dropped to one knee... and _sang_. As the whole square was singing lustily it caught her off balance how _personal_ his song was. Like he was making them all sing just for her. Hundreds of people singing with one voice - _his_ voice. It was unsettling in a way she was unable to articulate, especially as the significance of the words sank in.

> _Yeah you and me we can ride on a star_  
>  _If you stay with me girl, we can rule the world_  
>  _Yeah you and me we can light up the sky_  
>  _If you stay by my side, we can rule the world._

All she could do was stare, speechless, and he looked up at her expectantly, the crowd carrying on happily, as he tilted his head.

“Well - what do you say?”

“What do I say to what? Alex-”

“Do you want to rule world with me? I waited for you. Although I made them sing in anticipation... Jerusalem is a great, _great_ song. I will build Jerusalem in England’s green and pleasant land, but I need you by my side! _Don’t leave me now_..." (for a moment he joined back in with the singing and she took a sharp breath) "Oooh I could make you a crown to go with the necklace!”

His eyes were shining and his smile wide and eager, and she wowed to go personally break the legs of whoever had given him illegal substances. Clearly this was the price for being so in control - he’d completely lost it. She’d always expected that he might, but this...

“Alex... I don’t want to rule the world.”

“Oh.”

His face fell, and then he stood up, pulling out his phone.

“I’m not being crazy, Allie. I know you’re thinking it’s the drugs talking, but it really isn’t. You see I found something. Quite by accident... Turns out the Doctor didn’t quite confiscate _all_ of Daddy’s toys. He’s been _ever_ so naughty, but I can use it all for _good_! Let me explain-”

He held up the phone where the Archangel symbol was slowly turning and she shook her head, grabbing hold of his arm, forcing him to look at her properly.

“Alex, I don’t _care_! What I want to know is why you took drugs, and what on earth possessed you to jump off that lion. You could have been killed!”

He pulled back, a deeply affronted look on his face.

“I can kill myself if I want to! In any. way. I. _like_! You’re not the boss of me.”

She could feel her jaw drop, which caused him to tilt his head, a thought slowly making its way across his face.

“Oh. You think I would have _died_. Don’t worry - I have more lives than a cat!”

Then he leaned forwards conspiratorially, voice dropping to a whisper.

“Although the whole nine lives thing? Is just a myth. But _don’t tell the cats_. They get very touchy!”

He tapped his nose, shooting her a significant look, and it was all she could do not to find a wall to bang her head against.

“I promise I won’t tell the cats,” she said eventually - as he seemed to be waiting for her to say something - and then Matt found them, as the singing (to Allison’s immense relief) began winding down.

“Alex. What did you take? Please at least give me an idea-”

“A little of everything,” Alex replied breezily, waving his hand and then stopping, watching it, before slowly passing it in from of his face.

“Oh that’s _amazing_. Have you seen Donnie Darko?”

“That’s it, we’re going home!” Allison said, taking hold of his other hand and setting off walking.

The Longest Day just got longer.

Somehow she managed to get Alex into bed (Matt was invaluable, she could have kissed him), but she only got him to sleep by telling him that he could perfectly easily take over the world tomorrow.

Once he was settled, Matt insisted on making them both some food (“When did you last eat?” he asked, and she shook head) and some tea, and despite being sure that she couldn’t eat a thing she discovered that she was starving.

“Thank you,” she said, as she eventually drained her cup, and then realised her hands were shaking and carefully set the cup down on the table. “I don’t...”

“Hey, it’s OK,” Matt replied, laying a hand on top of hers. “There was an alien invasion. And with Alex on top of everything else... You’re allowed to lose it, OK?”

She nodded, grateful. There were times when she wondered at Alex’s friendship with Josh - the strange friction, all the issues they wouldn’t tell her about - but Matt was the opposite. Quiet and down-to-earth, he just accepted Alex along with all his peculiarities. 

“I think... I think I need to go to bed,” she said slowly. “My head seems... I can’t really think straight anymore.”

“Good idea,” Matt agreed, then added: “If you need me, just call.” 

“Will do. And thank you again. Don’t know what I’d have done without you. I’ve never seen him like this...”

Matt hesitated.

“I’ve seen something... vaguely similar, but it’s a long time ago now. He... reacts badly to being powerless. But that’s a discussion for another day. Sleep well.”

***

The next day she was woken once again by Alex sitting bolt upright, although judging by the light it was closer to midday than early morning.

For a second she had a terrible feeling of deja vu (in as much as she could feel anything through the sleepy fog in her head), then he turned to her, eyes wide and terrified.

“Did I take over the world?”

“What?”

“Allie, please answer me. Did I take over the world?”

Sitting up she took his hand and spoke slowly and carefully.

“You took a lot of drugs, then sat atop the Red Lion making everyone sing. And then you jumped off, nearly giving me a heart attack-”

“Where is my phone?” he interrupted, then swept it from the bedside table and studied it, relief flooding his features.

In the stillness they heard a soft knock on the door, and the relief increased tenfold.

“Jack,” he breathed, attempting to get out of bed, except his legs obviously didn’t quite work, and Allison pulled on her dressing gown and went instead.

It _was_ Jack. 

He smiled, but looked so exhausted that Allison felt like asking him if he wanted a lie down - instead she offered to make some fresh tea. He nodded gratefully, and went to see Alex.

When she turned up in the bedroom doorway a few minutes later, she could tell that Alex had obviously filled Jack in on the night’s happenings - going by the look on his face at least.

He was staring at Alex, incredulous. “See-” he began, then stopped as he saw her, carefully helping himself to a cup of tea before shaking his head.

“ _Alex_. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“Jack _please_. I can’t tell the Doctor, you know what he’s like - everything is all black and white. And the stuff I found is embedded at the very core of everything, there’s no way to remove it. If I’m ever going to use those satellites for anything _useful_ , that programming _needs_ to stay.”

He held up the phone, but Jack didn’t seem willing to budge.

“You are asking me to keep your father’s secrets. This is not a screwdriver, this is-”

He stopped, closing his eyes momentarily, and Alex bit his lip, eyes turning mercurial and calculating as he studied the older man.

“Well... You are keeping a secret for _me_. Daddy doesn’t know. We can keep tabs on him... Even use it as leverage, or blackmail, if need be.”

There was a moment where they looked at each other, silently, then Jack sighed.

“I don’t like how your mind works kid, but I’ve got to hand it to you...”

“I’m my father’s son?”

Jack didn’t reply, instead taking a sip of his tea, and when he spoke again he changed the subject.

“So, apparently a lot of the mess is due to you messing around with illegal substances. What exactly did you take?”

Alex’s response wasn’t what Allison had expected. He looked bashful, yet as if they were sharing some sort of private joke.

“Sort of... everything?” he replied, and Jack’s face registered a combination of fondness and exasperation that was somehow very reassuring. 

“You truly are an idiot, you know that right?” he replied, and Alex smiled ruefully.

“At least I’m consistent?”

At which Jack started chuckling, and then laughing, to such an extent that Allison began to worry that he would spill his tea. Eventually he managed to catch his breath and studied her boyfriend with such affection that Allison felt a great deal of the worries of the last 24 hours fade away.

“Please tell me that at least you’ve learned something from all this?”

Alex nodded solemnly.

“Drugs are baaaaaaad.”

“Good. I am now going to go get some sleep, little brother - and I will keep your secrets even though you don’t deserve it!”

After Jack had left, Alex sat in silence looking into the distance until Allison waved a hand in front of his face.

“Hello? Anyone there?”

Slowly he looked up at her, like he wasn’t sure she was real.

“I can’t believe you’re still here. After last night...”

“Well, you’re not about to take drugs again, so that’s good. And as long as there aren’t any more alien invasions...”

“But you’re staying? Or rather, you don’t want me to leave? I was...”

“High as a kite, to use Matt’s words. I’ll give you a pass.”

“You shouldn’t,” he said, and she sat down on the bed, taking his hand. She understood him well enough by now to know what to say. 

“Do you want to rule the world?”

He shook his head, horrified, and she kissed his nose.

“See, we’re good.”

(The world had nearly ended the day before. His issues were suddenly... less of an issue.)

Reaching up, he cradled her cheek, wonder in his eyes.

“Travel with me?” he asked softly. “I was thinking we could go round the world in 80 days? Once the exams are over. A Grand Tour, before... Before we have to grow up and face life properly.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

He was still stalling, but at least he had admitted as much.

***

Exams came and went, oddly underwhelming after the nightmare of the invasion, although Alex managed to briefly become the talk of the whole of Cambridge, her own First class honours overshadowed completely.

“But what did you _do_?” she asked him, and he grinned. “I took the natural sciences and turned them upside down and inside out. And then I made them dance a jig.”

“Alex...”

“No really. A _jig_.”

Of course he had. It was almost enough to make her think that... Except she wouldn’t. Not now. 

Instead she focussed on making sure she had a flat in Manchester for September, and packing for a round-the-world trip.

As an antidote to the trauma of an alien invasion, travel turned out to be perfect. New sights, new people, new destinations, new smells, new tastes and new experiences every day. Alex was of course a wonderful guide, whether they were halfway up the Himalayas, or trying to find a Mayan temple. She did her best to keep a vague diary, to remember it for later when they were old and could reminisce... She knew he was worried that the end of university would spell the end of them - that they wouldn’t make the transition - but she was determined to prove him wrong. Yes there would be changes, especially if he wandered off to work on his own projects, but she was sure they could weather even a long-distance relationship. 

And travel was marvellous for living in the moment and not worrying about the future.

Except all of a sudden summer was over, 80 days were gone, and they were back home - a little late, but still in time for Josh and Jamie’s wedding. It was a beautiful day, no one forgot the rings or anything else, and the couple looked beyond stunning and were so happy that there wasn’t a dry eye in the Synagogue. 

Still, Allison felt oddly out of sorts. Her own future was in many ways a mystery, and Alex’s doubly so.

Where did they go from here?

The next day was their last in Cambridge. The morning after a van would come for all her stuff and take it to Manchester (Alex had of course boxed everything up in his own, very efficient manner), and she decided that she couldn’t wait any longer.

“Alex - please just tell me. What are your plans? Are you coming with me or not?”

He looked up from the list he was going over, then closed his eyes in something like resignation, except she could swear he went paler.

Then he put down the paper, before pulling the necklace with the pendant over his head and laying it down on the table. (Had he been wearing that before? Maybe he’d put it on when he’d gotten dressed, she was sure she’d not seen it that morning.)

Standing up, he walked over to her.

“Give me your hands,” he said, and for one (terrifying, exhilarating) moment she thought he was going to propose.

Instead he placed her hands on his chest. This was puzzling, until she with dawning shock realised that she could feel _two_ heartbeats. She couldn't count the number of times she’d fallen asleep on his chest, this was not... _possible_.

Slowly lifting her eyes, she felt like she’d never seen him before as he spoke again:

“I’m not human.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering what Alex discovered about the Archangel network, this short fic by the Redjay - set around 2011 - gives an idea: [Waffles](http://archiveofourown.org/works/422821/chapters/798345). By which I mean I totally stole it, because it's perfect.


	22. Chapter 22

The words hung between them, impossible and irrefutable. She was supposed to say something, except her mind didn’t seem to be working. 

Seeing her predicament, Alex reached out and fetched the pendant from the table, holding it up. It twisted innocently on its chain, catching the light in the planes of its old-fashioned design, the ornate ‘S’ briefly blinding her with a stray beam of sunlight.

“The pendant - amongst other things - works as a perception filter, concealing the second heartbeat.”

“Right,” she said, slowly letting her hands fall from his chest - still unsure what to say or do, but grasping onto the nearest topic.

“But I remember... You showed me - there were pictures of your grandparents inside that pendant.”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“So-” she suddenly felt on firmer ground. “So they’re human, right? Which means... you’re half-alien. Like Jamie. I mean, you look human and everything, there’re just some things that are a bit different...”

Her voice trailed off as she saw the minute shake of his head and the closed look on his face. Then he sighed and pulled up a chair.

“Maybe we should sit down.”

“OK,” she said faintly. She was half-expecting it to be a prank, some sort of hidden camera thing, except it would be completely out of character for him. Being an alien was more likely...

(An alien. Honest to god alien. She was in love with an _alien_?)

Once seated Alex began explaining in earnest, and she tried to pay attention. 

“You are right, my mother is human. But my father is a Time Lord. As am I.”

“Time Lord,” she repeated, “that’s what... _species_ you are?”

(Somewhere inside everything she knew was desperately grasping for any sort of hand hold or purchase. He was a different _species_. And not like Jamie who could make hir eyes go purple and was apparently telepathic, but was otherwise more or less human...)

He merely nodded, but she could tell that he was tense. It vaguely occurred to her that he was probably nervous.

“So, basic history and background... The Time Lords were the oldest and mightiest race in the universe. Pardon the hyperbole, but it’s true - when life on Earth was beginning to think about turning multi-cellular life into animals, the Time Lords had already invented time travel. But they all died in a war - the last great Time War - long before I was born. The only survivors were my father, the Doctor and the Redjay. As to why I’m _here_... Well, the Doctor always liked humans, probably partly because you look like us, and partly because you’re so... _extraordinary_. And Dad married a human of course, so this is where I grew up.”

“Right,” she said again, doing her best to take it all in. “So... you’re not eccentric or autistic or extra gifted or... anything like that. You’re just...”

“Not human and trying to fit in, yes.”

She looked at him then, really looked, and realised that in one fell swoop all the issues she’d tried to ignore had an _answer_ and an _explanation_. The reason he was so often difficult to understand, the reason his reasoning frequently made no sense to her - it was because he was _actually different_...

It was like when she was little and had first learned division - or how to find the diagonal of a cube. Previous knowledge slotting together and suddenly everything made _sense_. The miraculousness of maths - but applied to a person. She felt almost weightless.

“Allie?” he asked, worried at her prolonged silence, and she suddenly smiled. 

“It all makes sense. _You_ make sense, and you never did. Not really. But now you do.”

Then she frowned, pulling back a little.

“You’ve not got anything... weird, right? Apart from the two hearts, I mean. You’re not green or... slimy...”

He laughed, eyes bright and relieved.

“ _Definitely no_. Physically I am very much what you’ve experienced so far, except my body can endure a lot more than yours - and repair itself far more effectively - and I have the brain the size of a planet. But I can assure you I am not a lizard or whatever you’re imagining. This body is very much my own.”

“Good,” she said firmly. He was still her Alex. Just... _more_. At some point she’d yell at him for lying for three years, but right now she wasn’t up to it. Knowing how secretive he was, she wasn’t surprised that he’d not told the truth - just sad that he’d not trusted her sooner. Before she got further in her thoughts, he bit his lip, eyes suddenly full of mischief.

“Mind you, I _do_ have something associated with aliens.”

She wasn’t entirely sure how it had ended up as something he could joke about, not sure how the shift in her head had worked... All that mattered was that he was something _new_ for her to investigate - a whole new world opening up. And he’d give her _answers_!

“What?” she asked cautiously, and he lifted his chin. 

“A spaceship.”

Her jaw might have dropped fraction.

“Seriously?”

“I keep it parked on the dark side of the moon.”

“Alex... If you are having me on, I will do horrible things to you.”

He once more held up the pendant, eyes triumphant and smug - a look she knew very well indeed, but she still found it hard to wrap her mind around what he was saying.

“The pendant is also a teleport and can take us straight there...”

For the second time in five minutes she was speechless, but this time he reached out, cradling her face with both hands.

“My Allison... Will you let me show you the wonders of the universe?”

“I know I’m repeating myself, but... Are you for serious?”

“Always,” he replied, gently letting go of her and pulling the necklace back over his head, before opening the pendant and adjusting something or other.

“Do you trust me? I just need your hand....”

Somewhere in the back of her mind a little voice was saying that it was all going too fast. And yet. They’d been together for three years. Had run away with the circus, been to NASA and all the way around the world. She’d seen him fall to pieces, had him cheat on her and broken up and gotten back together... He’d let her become closer and closer, and if this was the final step - finally letting her in, finally opening up fully - well she’d be damned if she ran away now. And he could show her the _stars_...

She held out her hand.

***

There was a bright flash, and then- they were on a spaceship.

Alex spread out his arms, and she could barely believe her eyes.

Looking around she almost laughed out loud in pure astonishment. The interior was sleek and black, yet not dark. The lines of the walls were oddly organic, vaguely reminding her of Art Nouveau, yet not as ornate, the door frames curved and gleaming. They were obviously in the cockpit, as she could see a control panel at the front, with complicated controls and a pilot’s seat, and she wondered what was on the other side of the doors.

As she was turning, taking it all in and trying to work out where the illumination was coming from, Alex reached out and pressed a button, and the cover that had been over the window moved away, revealing the surface of the moon outside. 

She moved forwards, looking out, the impossibility of it all almost more than she could fathom. They’d spent a whole summer working at NASA, helping to put the final touches to a rocket that was going to the moon, thousands of people coming together for this single purpose, and here she was at the touch of a button...

Turning to him she shook her head, stunned and amazed.

“All the time... you had _this_?”

He hesitated, dragging a hand through his hair, conflicting emotions moving across his face.

“This was my birthday present when I turned 18. I had one trip - _one_ \- and then it was confiscated and they sent me to Cambridge for three years. I’m sure you can see why I was... pissed off.”

Tearing her eyes from the view she tilted her head, intrigued once more by all the secrets in his past.

“But what did you _do_?”

At this he bit his lip, looking strangely bashful.

“Something that made Jack call me the single greatest idiot he’d ever met...” 

_“And_...” she prompted.

A slow smile spread across his face.

“I guess you could call it stupid. But then isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when you’re young? Stupid, dangerous stuff?”

Her eyes narrowed. Finally answers!

“Dangerous?”

“Well, sort of. I nearly died.”

This took a second to sink in.

“You nearly _died?”_

He met her eyes head-on, almost shrugging.

“It was a risk I was willing to take.”

Shaking her head she wasn’t sure where to start, although it helped explain things rather...

“I’m beginning to see why they took such drastic action.”

His smiled deepened, eyes dancing.

“Told you I have more lives than a cat. And I’ll explain that later, promise. For now, come sit down and... let me show you the stars.”

Forgetting everything else she took a seat, and watched - heart beating - as he pressed buttons and flipped switches. Then there was a smooth ‘swoosh’ and they took off. In a single circular movement he brought the ship up and around the moon, and the next moment she could see the Earth spread out before them, a blue-green jewel against a dark star-speckled background.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he said softly, and she could only nod. Something seemed to be caught in her throat. 

She turned to look at him, seeing all the stars reflected in his eyes... And then almost laughed as in a sudden flash everything seemed to come together in utter perfection.

Like the princess and the frog, she had been misled by appearances. But she’d kissed him and he had turned out to be... so much more than she could ever have wished for. The stars, all her dreams - they were suddenly close enough to touch...

“What?” he said, noticing her faraway look, and she shook her head.

“I thought you were a frog,” she said, and whatever he’d been expecting that was clearly not it, going by the surprised look on his face.

“You never told me you read The Jungle Book,” he eventually replied, puzzled but pleased, at which she burst out laughing:

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“'Mowgli' means frog,” he explained. “It’s how he gets his name...”

“That’s really not what I was thinking.”

She explained, as much as she could, and his eyes seemed to glow.

“Secret prince of the universe pretending to be a frog. Oh that’s _brilliant_... Mind you, Ianto calls me the spoiled brat of the universe, so take it with a grain of salt.”

Then he grinned.

“By the way, let me show you why I’m such a cautious driver... Cars are tiny little death boxes on wheels - slow, cramped, and only move in two dimensions. Whereas I... can do _this_!”

For a few breathless moments the world became a blur, like something out of Star Wars, and it’s possible she might have squealed a tiny bit. Or maybe even a lot.

Then he laughed and slowed down, stars becoming stars again, as he reached out and laid a hand on her arm.

“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself. But remember the Planetarium? This is why I nearly lost it...”

“Oh,” she said softly, having almost forgotten that incident, but _of course_... 

“So - where would you like to go?” he continued. “The universe is our oyster. Although if you like, I could show you my Lab?”

“But we’ve only just got out where amongst the stars,” she replied, to which his response was letting his eyes glimmer with secrets.

“Oh you have no idea... Hold on tight, we need to jump into the vortex for a moment. It makes _my_ head spin, goodness knows what it’ll do to yours. But I’ll make the leap as smooth as possible, promise.”

Intrigued and curious she nodded, and for the next minute everything seemed to be upside down or sideways or... something. But then, abruptly, the universe was back and there were stars and suns and planets...

More specifically there were twin suns in the distance, and below them another planet. Where Earth had been cool blues and greens, this one glowed golden and red, not unlike the diamond in her necklace.

“I should really give it a better name,” Alex said, studying it, “or any name at all. But this - is my ‘Lab’.”

Much as she tried, his words didn’t make much sense.

“You mean your lab is on that planet?” she asked, and he shook his head.

“The planet _is_ the lab. I created it.”

“The - the planet? You created _the planet_?”

“Yes,” he replied calmly. “All this-” he swept a hand across the vista in front of them, “-is _mine._ ”

She seemed to have run out of words entirely, quite simply staring from the sphere below to her boyfriend’s face. 

Her boyfriend that she argued with over shopping and bills and annoying habits. Her boyfriend that she had brought home and who had charmed her parents and befriended her siblings and played with her nephews and nieces. Her boyfriend who liked plum jam and was allergic to aspirin and had to line up all the cups in neat rows. 

And he was the creator of a planet?

“Dad decided to give me a planet when I was 16. For... complicated reasons. So I made this. It’s... basically a copy of Gallifrey - the long gone home planet I never saw - but it’s also somewhere I can do whatever I want. I can build things and test things and just do... anything. Without bothering anyone. Seriously, it’s light years from anywhere... My own little corner of the universe.”

“But... _how?_ I don’t understand.”

A spaceship she could wrap her head around, but this...

“Oh it was just a dead lump when I started, I created it all from scratch... But - are you beginning to see why Cambridge was so frustrating? I had all this, and I couldn’t get to it.” 

He tilted his head, studying the orange planet suspended in the darkness.

“Spent my A-Level years terra-forming and making it habitable... The time management was a bitch of course, as I went to school too, but I was happy as a clam even so. Once I was done with school, when I turned eighteen, I was going to move here more or less permanently, being able to focus on my proper studies. The spaceship was the icing on the cake, a way of travelling to other places, to explore, to be truly _free_... And then in one fell swoop they took it all away. ”

A sigh, then he turned to her.

“Instead I found a completely different adventure. I never saw you coming. My Allison - will you let me show you my... echo of the Shining World of the Seven systems?”

She nodded, unable to speak.

The silly analogy was becoming more apt than she had realised... It really was quite like pretending to be a frog. Comparatively. Cleverest boy in the world. The universe.

He had created a _planet_.

No wonder NASA had seemed like child’s play.

Then her attention was stolen by the descent as they entered the atmosphere and cut through clouds at dizzying speed... And it was something she had seen in movies, but oh, it was all _real_. The curve of the planet as they came through the clouds, her first sight of an alien sky... Then they dipped down towards the planet and she found herself riveted.

There were tall snow-capped mountains in the distance and red grass stretching out to the horizon - unbroken, until they came upon a forest by a large lake. It was dawn and still dusky, and Alex’s eyes scanned the surroundings.

“Let’s land here,” he said, slowing their speed to a crawl before letting the craft gently settle down on the ground.

With a flick of a switch a door on the side of the ship opened and he held out a hand, indicating that she should go first.

Heart beating she stepped down the short ramp and then stopped, trying to take it all in.

The sky was a dark burnt orange, brightening as the twin suns rose over the distant mountains. There was red grass under her feet and the lake shimmered golden, reflecting the sky, and a soft breeze, carrying new smells, played with her hair... 

But then the rays from the suns broke across the mountains, hitting the forest, and she instinctively grasped hold of Alex’s hand, too overwhelmed to say anything.

The leaves were silver, but as they caught the sunlight it looked as if the whole forest was on fire - golden mirrors cascading light across the landscape with the casual abandon of nature’s ever-present beauty...

They had climbed the Himalayas, seen icebergs in the Polar circle and the sun set over the African savannah, sailed up the Amazon river and stood in the Winter Palace - yet nothing had prepared her for this.

Eventually she turned to him, speechless, and saw her own feelings mirrored in his eyes.

“Welcome to my world,” he said, voice so gentle she barely heard it.

“Is this actually real?” she asked in return, not really able to believe what was happening. (She had been fretting over going to Manchester and packing...)

“Stars above I hope so,” he replied, before shaking his head.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here. I can’t count how many times I tried to picture this, tried to work out how you’d react... And now you’re just _here_ and it’s OK - it’s like... Like finally breathing after holding my breath for three years.”

Glancing around, he tugged at her hand.

“Let’s sit down? I think I just need a moment.”

She nodded and he sat down underneath a large tree, leaning his head against the trunk and closing his eyes. Allison, however, found that she couldn’t sit still and immediately leapt to her feet again, tentatively snapping a leaf off a branch, turning it over in her hands.

There were too many questions in her head and she didn’t even know where to start.

“Where are we?” she asked, and he looked up at her, puzzled.

“What do you mean? I can give you the space-time co-ordinates, or do you want to know which galaxy we’re in, how far from Earth?” 

“No where is _here_? This place. What’s it called?”

Mutely he shook his head.

“Nothing has names. Not even the planet, so...”

He waved a hand towards the view.

“Do you want to name it? It really is rather lovely. We could even name it after you? Lake Allison, that sounds nice.”

Tilting his head, he looked out over the calm surface of the water.

“I think this is one of the largest lakes. Don’t have a lot of them, the climate is very dry generally. Like the Serengeti - well, that’s what I was aiming for. Seems to be working so far...” 

Eyes growing distant, he kept talking, although mostly to himself.

“So much work to do yet. I’ve not even made a start on animals... They’ll need to be threaded through everything very carefully.”

Despite being intrigued by his musings, she found she had a question of her own.

“Alex - how is anything here? I mean, you started this 5 years ago? But these trees are much older than that...”

Refocussing, he frowned.

“Time Lord. Time travel. I’m sure I mentioned that? Skipped back and forth a lot, altering the beginnings of the planet, to make it flourish. Added the moons too. Now that was _fun_.”

He smiled, as she stared at him dumbfounded, before his eyes narrowed.

“It’s ridiculously complicated though. You know how fragile eco systems are, how breaking one small part can destroy far more than anticipated? I’m doing the opposite. Trying to calculate how and where and when to add things - I have a model to aim for of course, but it’s all theories and memories and ancient data. Take singing fish... How would they evolve?”

“Singing fish?” she asked, looking from the silver leaf in her hand to the impossible boy in front of her.

He nodded. 

“Singing fish. I’m still stuck on that one. And I’ve not even begun to think about the mammals... Oh there is so _much_ I need to learn.”

His eyes lit up at this, bright and happy, but although this subject was fascinating, she found herself returning to something he’d almost shrugged off.

“But time travel? Are you serious? I mean, of course you’re serious, but...”

Sensing her mood he nodded again, slowly.

“Yes. That’s...” he hesitated, but then continued, words almost tumbling out. “That’s how I saved that boy at Christmas. Jack and I were clearing up, listening in on the emergency services - it’s the sort of thing that Torchwood does - and there was a report about a fatality, a toddler who’d been killed by a car that had lost control. And I... just couldn’t- I couldn’t accept that. _Wouldn’t_ accept that. There had been so much death, so much pointless death, but at least Torchwood employees know what they sign up for. That little boy was just a freak accident... So I changed it. Well, Jack and I. Went back, rewrote time - like I said, I do it here all the time, trying to create a proper world, but on Earth... With real people and countless timelines and consequences that are nigh-impossible to estimate - it was a challenge to say the least. But we did it. Saved the boy and with some very complicated sleight of hand made it look like it was Nathan. The Christmas Hero...”

It would seem that she’d get three years’ worth of truth all in one go. She kept quiet, wondering what would be coming next, when he shook his head, catching her eyes.

“I’m rambling now, sorry. And I should probably be telling you useful stuff, the stuff that’s actually important... You know, the reason I lied to you for so long.”

“Oh,” she said, sinking down in the red grass next to him. 

(Red grass, twin suns, silver leaves... It was like a fairy tale. She twirled the silver leaf between her fingers and smiled.)

“I know you were shocked how... cavalier I was when talking about dying. And this is why: Time Lords don’t die, they regenerate. Well _obviously_ they can die, we’re practically extinct, but those were extraordinary circumstances. If I’d broken my neck jumping off that lion in the summer, I’d just have gotten a new body, I wouldn’t be _gone_...”

She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but to her surprise she was not completely out of her depth. She remembered reading scientific journals on this topic, as well as long discussions with Medical and Biology students... _Finally_ something she could talk about intelligently.

“So you’re like that immortal jellyfish?” she asked, eager, and he bristled.

“Nnnnot really. That’s a bit like saying you are like a slug because you both breathe air. A Time Lord-”

He stopped momentarily.

“A Time Lord is reborn through _fire_. Like a Phoenix. It’s... _mythical_.”

She knew she should react to what he was saying with suitable gravity, yet his choice of words made it, well, impossible. 

“Did you just call yourself _mythical_?”

“Mythical and _legendary_ ,” he replied, not moving a muscle.

She tilted her head, fighting giggles so hard she could barely speak.

“And pompous?”

“That too,” he nodded. “Very. You should see the official robes.”

“Alex...”

Finally his face cracked, amusement and exasperation shining through.

“Listen - I’m talking about the fact that I’m practically immortal, that I won’t even be considered an adult until I’m about a hundred, that I’ll lose you one day - please don’t make me laugh, it isn’t funny. Allie-”

She shook her head again, unsure how to even translate her scattered thoughts into words. 

“Sorry Alex, it’s too much. I think I lost my ability to absorb stuff about five galaxies ago...”

She held up her hand.

“I’m holding a silver leaf in my hand, from my alien boyfriend’s planet _that he created_. How am I supposed to react? To _any_ of it? I’m only human...”

Eyes suddenly soft and understanding he didn’t say anything, just leaned forward and kissed her. 

Gentle hands cupped her face, soft lips covering hers, and she wrapped her arms around him, feeling the solid and familiar shape of his body against her own. But there were two heartbeats against her chest and the warmth of twin suns in an alien sky touched her skin...

And like a forgotten dream, she felt as if all the stars in the heavens were spread out beneath her feet; their future as golden as the sky above, and she was sure that no matter the obstacles in their path they would find a way.

After all - what couldn’t he do?


	23. Chapter 23

“You said _house_! You said _basic_!”

Alex looked at her, stumped.

“But it _is_ a house. And it _is_ basic! All the furniture comes from IKEA for starters...”

“I’m sorry Alex, but something that massive isn’t a _house_.”

They were hovering over a very large circular structure, with a Gaudi-esque tiled roof that gently sloped upwards towards the centre. There were two circular ‘holes’ taken out of the building and Alex explained that the larger one was basically a courtyard, and the smaller one further along was a garden. 

When they landed, Allison realised that the ‘courtyard’ was even larger than she had thought - there was easily room for dozens of spaceships. It was covered in grass, but would apparently at some point be cobbled - and although she could see the sense in it, she was still so thrilled by the idea of red grass that she’d hate to see any of it disappear.

A whole planet, a whole proper alien planet with two suns and a golden sky... She felt like a small child who had one morning woken up in Wonderland. (And this was just the start - he had a _space ship_ , could show her all the stars in the sky.)

How could it possible be real, how could it happen to _her_? She was so normal and ordinary that it felt surreal. It was like discovering that Harry Potter had been a documentary... 

Then she was distracted from the red grass and the peculiar texture of the walls by the intricately carved stone circle above the large double doors.

“That’s very pretty,” she said, pointing to the strange pattern of intersecting circles and lines, and he smiled.

“It’s not a decoration, it’s my motto. It says ‘Seek and ye shall find’. ‘Cause of my name- Oh. I’ve not told you yet, have I?”

“Your name? But I know your name,” she said, feeling that one of them was being stupid, she just wasn’t sure which one.

“Yes you know my _given_ name. But not my chosen one.”

She tried her best not to sigh.

“Are you _ever_ going to stop speaking in riddles? Plain English, please.”

“Well...” he waved a frustrated hand. “To begin at the beginning: The writing is Gallifreyan - we don’t use letters and numbers but circles... it’s a bit complicated, but very elegant.”

“Oh. Hang on... I remember those circles. From...”

“Yes,” he grinned, “way back when I first distracted you, quite by accident. A very serendipitous accident, looking back. Anyway, the name I _chose_ \- when I was eight, it’s a long story - is ‘the Seeker’. Hence the motto. It’s... a more descriptive sort of name, and _mine_. It’s what I want to do - seek out the truth of everything, discover everything... ”

She nodded softly. It was crazy, but wonderful. And she remembered the way he had jumped from trade to trade, learning everything he could - yes, it made sense. (Everything made sense, even discovering that he had another name. The jigsaw she was assembling was gaining pieces at a ridiculous rate, and they all fitted _beautifully_. Her Golden Boy...)

Walking over to the tall doors he pushed them open and she followed, realising that they were in a large circular hallway with white walls; twin staircases - one from either side of the hall, and meeting in the middle - leading up to a gallery a level up. The walls had several doors, although the biggest was below the platform where the stairs met.

“Is _everything_ circular?” she asked, and he nodded.

“More or less. But come - let me take you to the centre.”

Going through the main doors they went down a corridor - which was straight, although with a curved ceiling - obviously headed for the centre of the building.

“OK then, why is _this_ corridor straight?” she asked, and he chuckled.

“Shortcut.”

The centre turned out to be very... central. In the middle of the room there was a wide column, at least six feet wide, that disappeared off into the ceiling, and around it - and along all the walls - there were complex-looking control panels and simple, hyper-neat work tops, some with books or tools arranged in familiar piles. There were also several screens, a few of which lazily displayed slowly swirling circular symbols. Some sort of coding she presumed.

“This is the heart of everything,” Alex announced, looking immensely pleased with himself. “Everything on the planet is controlled and measured here. The actual labs are elsewhere - scattered all over where they’re best situated - but this is where I keep tabs.”

She walked around, getting a feel for the place and trying to figure out how it might all work, then eventually tilted her head.

“What’s in there?” she asked, pointing to the central column, and a smile broke out on his face.

“Stairs. There’s going to be a tower one day - very tall, so I can see far. But it’s one of the things I haven’t got round to yet...”

What he would have said next was lost as a small flying _thing_ appeared out of nowhere and seemed to collide with him. 

As she recalled him saying that there were _no animals_ on the entire planet Allison was utterly thrown as he reached up, nuzzling the creature with a finger, and she realised that it was a small pterodactyl. Which was sitting on his shoulder, gently pecking at his head, as if this was a normal thing.

“Allie - allow me to introduce Princess Leia. I’ve had her since I was... five, I think. So she’s getting on a bit, but still healthy I’m happy to say.”

He had a pet pteranodon. She blinked.

“Does it talk?”

At this he was obviously as surprised as she.

“Why would she talk?”

“Sorry, for a second there I thought I was getting stuck in a Disney movie.”

He chuckled.

“Fair enough. Although I think I could do without the cute talking sidekick animal - that’s more the Doctor’s style... He had a robot dog once.”

“Aaaand we’re back in Disney territory. Can we move away from that? Cause I need to be very blunt and ask if you’ve got a loo anywhere?”

“Bluntness always welcome,” he replied, and then led her through far too many circular corridors before arriving at their destination - yet another door, indistinguishable from all the others.

He half-pushed the door open, then stopped and studied her.

“Do you want me to explain the three seashells, or do you reckon you can work them out yourself?”

She stared at him for a moment, and then he burst out laughing.

“I’m just kidding! It’s a perfectly ordinary toilet. But the look on your face...”

She glared, and walked through the door. Stupid sci-fi jokes.

Thankfully he stopped being an idiot after that and provided some nice lunch - although her watch told her it was much later than the sunshine outside would have her believe.

She also noticed that his kitchen was very simple - no crazy futuristic gadgets, just ordinary appliances much like the ones in their flat. She guessed that this was what he’d meant when he described the place as ‘basic’.

When they’d finished eating (and he’d done the washing up - was the OCD tidiness an alien thing she wondered, or just a _him_ thing?), she asked to see the rest of the ‘house’ and he happily agreed, although he warned her that there wasn’t a lot to see yet.

Still, as they meandered their way through the maze-like interior, she appreciated that this was obviously where he kept all his ‘stuff’, although it was very scattered. Like the beautiful library which took up a preposterous amount of space, considering that most of the shelves were empty. 

“Give it a few centuries,” he said, then seemed to catch himself, and eventually led her further on when he realised that she wasn’t going to press the issue. (They had yet to discuss the ‘practically immortal’ question in any kind of detail, and she was loath to begin. Surely it could wait until tomorrow. And she was _sure_ that they’d work something out - everything else here was like a fairy tale, it seemed logical that they could have happy ending. Somehow. The future was golden and beautiful and they _would_ find a solution.)

A little later they came to his ‘sitting room’, and she had to laugh as it was completely bare except for a single sofa in front of the fire place, which was looking rather lost in the large room.

“Well, it’s not easy finding furniture for circular rooms,” he shot back, and she nodded, still chuckling. She was beginning to get her head around the place, and thought to herself that he was like an iceberg. She’d only seen 10 percent previously, but if she was honest she’d always suspected that there might far more hiding below the surface. And it all joined up.

Finally they ended up in the garden, which - much like everything else - was pretty empty, although the centre caught her eyes immediately. It was a tiny tree with _green_ leaves, and they stood out against the red in a way that made her do a genuine double take. Alex put his arm around her:

“That’s the plum tree your mother gave me for Christmas nearly three years ago. In case you ever wondered where it went...”

She shook her head.

“Oh my god. That’s... crazy.”

“In a good way I hope?”

“Of course. Go stand next to it, I want to get a picture!”

He obligingly went and stood next to the sapling, and she added yet another impossible image to her gallery. 

Once she was done, he moved forwards, smiling in a way she knew far too well - although what he said was of course something slightly out of the ordinary as he gently cupped her face.

“Allie, I was thinking... Can I try something? I can give you just a tiny taste, and if you don’t like it, that’s fine. But I want you to know that it’s... an option.”

Unsure what he was getting at, but quite ready to add to her growing collection of marvels, she nodded. 

Leaning in he let their lips meet in a gentle kiss, and then-

_~a flicker of pleasure; a barely there sensation, like a tiny melody dancing along her mind~_

He moved away and she opened her eyes, looking at him, her breath caught, speechless, as he explained:

“That was a snippet of Jamie’s song... I’ve been wanting to share it for so very long...”

“You were in my head,” she replied, still unsure how to react. It had been pleasurable, of course, but-

“I’m highly telepathic,” he replied, smiling somewhat guiltily as he let his hands fall. “That’s how the whole trouble with Jamie started, really...”

“Wait,” she said, holding up a hand. There was something - something just out of reach, something she couldn’t put her finger on, something golden right on the edge of her mind... Like something seen out of the corner of her eye. If only she could work out what it was...

“It’s like I’ve had this sense of déjà vu all day, but I can’t-”

“Here, let me,” he said, gently touching her temples, adding: “Don’t worry, I won’t look anywhere. I’ll be like... someone closing their eyes and reaching under the water to retrieve something lost.”

“O... K,” she said, not sure what he meant, and - before she could ask - _remembered_ , even as she heard him whisper ‘Of course’, voice strangely distant.

(For a fraction of a second the present ceased to exist, and instead the future shone at her in a thousand fragments... )

_The solemnity of Graduation - Josh and Jamie’s wedding - shuttles launching - a shared meal - the moon, stark and brilliant - his hand on her face - dull meetings - the endlessness of space, stars spread out beneath her feet - a night of passion - her family celebrating Boxing Day - twin suns against a flaming sky - playful work in a technical lab - Adelaide on Mars, face proudly radiant - an alien spacecraft - a world in celebration - Alex, older but his eyes lit up, golden and blazing, as if containing all the stars of the sky, watching her as if she was the most precious thing in the whole universe..._

She almost staggered as he took his hands away, and stared at him, shocked and gasping for breath.

It had been _his_ spaceship; the twin suns the ones in _his_ sky... The stars beneath her feet, the stark beauty of the moon - she _remembered_ it, she _recognised it_. 

Shaking her head as if trying to clear her mind, (except the memory was _there_ , clear as day), she tried to speak, to give voice to the impossibility he had caused.

“How - how was all that in my head already? The things I’ve seen today, how can I _remember them?_ Alex, please tell me, I _don’t understand!”_

He tilted his head, looking bashful and rather apologetic.

“Sorry, that was me. It was... when the rocket launched at NASA? And afterwards we...”

“Oh yes. Yes I remembered _that_ already.” 

Nothing could make her forget a climax out of this world, although she now realised that this golden moment had been at the heart of it. How had she forgotten? And how had it appeared in the first place?

“But - but how? What do you mean it was _you_?”

“It was...” he was clearly trying to find the right words, “it was like my dream? My vision, my hope for our future. And that moment was so... _close_ , it must have imprinted on you? Subconsciously?”

“You were in my _mind_ when we-?” she asked slowly, pure dread spreading. He shook his head vehemently.

“No. _No_. Never. It’s more like... how the flash from a camera will stay on your retina for a long time? Allie... Allie _listen_ , I know what you are thinking, but I promise you, I would never, _ever_ do that.”

But he could... (He wouldn’t protest so fiercely if it wasn’t an issue.)

He began explaining in more detail about how it all worked, but Allison wasn’t listening. Her beautiful golden vision - her certainty that everything would all turn out OK which had been such a part of her for the past year - it had been _him_. And it didn’t seem to worry him in the ways it did her...

As she tried to gather her thoughts, attempting to work out what this meant for her (or them, rather), the words ‘song’ and ‘telepathy’ happened to connect to another memory (her mind seemed jumbled - whatever he had done ‘reaching down’ was causing odd waves)... And it was as if she suddenly couldn’t breathe at all.

“Jerusalem,” she whispered, and he stopped talking, tilting his head.

“Allie?”

(Deep breath. Just ask. It’ll be fine, he’ll laugh it off and tell you you’re being paranoid... You’re just freaking out because he is highly telepathic and can apparently walk into your head as easily as taking your hand. Which _is_ something worth freaking out over, oh God, where to start? But just because he can put things in your head without even realising it, it doesn’t follow that- 

Does it?)

Lifting her eyes, she eventually spoke:

“What’s the Archangel Network?”

And for the first time he hesitated. He’d talked incessantly all day, on and on and on about anything and everything, explaining in detail until she told him to stop, and now... he hesitated.

“It’s a satellite system,” he finally said, and she shook her head.

“But what does it _do_? What was it you found? Something of your father’s....”

He seemed to go pale in the golden sunlight, but still he answered, his voice clear and precise. Plain English, just like she wanted.

“Mind control. Very subtle. It’s how Dad won the election. It’s nowhere near what it was, but there are... pockets still.”

She took it on board (it all made _sense_ , everything slotting together so perfectly that she couldn’t stop a shiver) - and then asked one more question, although she knew the answer even before he replied:

”That night - with all the people, when you were on the lion - did you use it? Did you _make_ them sing?”

Slowly, reluctantly - he nodded. 

“Yes.”

She could recall in perfect detail the way hundreds of people had been singing _with his voice_... Singing to _her_...

> _Yeah you and me we can light up the sky  
>  If you stay by my side, we can rule the world._

The eventual realisation of what it all meant (how had she been so blind?) hit her with such force that she took a sharp breath, as if in pain...

It was _real_. 

It wasn’t a strange complex, or weird issues from his father or his upbringing, not a stupid idea that he played around with... it was _real_.

Every worry, every unspoken fear that she’d pushed out of her mind - they all converged on her now, nearly paralysing her as memory after memory came back to her. Because he wasn’t ‘just a boy’. He was so much more...

Abruptly (irrevocably) untold memories were cast in a new light, illuminated by new understanding and insight.

Babushka, reading his fortune ( _‘Your destiny is to rule. There is no mistake. Much power, much much power, it will light the sky - shining. All the worlds will know your name.’_ ) and his terrified, panicked reaction that she had found so strange at the time ( _‘I'm my own worst nightmare... I could do terrible things in the name of good...’_ ) - his fear wasn’t irrational. He _could_ rule the world - all he had to do was reach out his hand and take it. 

After all - what couldn’t he do?

She could still see him on bended knee in front of her that night, the crowds singing... ( _‘Do you want to rule world with me?’_ he’d asked. _‘I waited for you. Although I made them sing in anticipation... Jerusalem is a great, great song. I will build Jerusalem in England’s green and pleasant land, but I need you by my side!’_ ) 

All the stars at her feet... Because they were his to give?

And earlier than that - their first argument, over that stupid paparazzi photographer (and he’d never apologised for that, never backed down, she’d just been swept away by the circus...) - how he thought he had the right to do whatever he wanted, how the rules didn’t apply to him. She could still see him, coldly commanding as he stared into the photographer’s overawed eyes ( _‘I meant what I said. Go home, do what’s right, and **pray**!_ ).

“Allie?” he said, reaching out and abruptly bringing her back to the present, clearly worried at her prolonged silence, and without even thinking she moved out of his reach.

“Don’t touch me!”

He froze, eyes wide and hurt as if she’d struck him, but it barely registered.

She was on a planet created from scratch in a few years, untold light years from home, with an alien who could do _anything_... 

( _Pray_. He had asked the man to pray. Yet had he been wrong? Last Christmas he had _rewritten time_ to save the life of a little boy. The _Time Lord_ deciding to change a fate on whim - bringing the dead back to life; because he was hurting himself. Yet it didn’t make him more human... quite the opposite.)

When she finally looked at him it was like she’d never seen him before.

“Can you take me home now please?” she asked carefully, not hearing much over the oddly loud beating of her heart, and he nodded silently, face like a mask. 

But she wasn’t really seeing him anymore, nor the red grass of the garden or the golden sky. All day she had been busy gathering jigsaw pieces, delighting in all the marvels, all the new insights, never stopping to look at the picture that was being created. She was doing so now - and trembled.

***

He left her - vanishing in a flash like something out of Star Trek - in their flat, surrounded by boxes. It was evening and dark outside, and she stared at the empty spot where he had been.

In a single day he had turned everything she knew upside down, shown her wonders she’d not dreamed of; only to have it all break apart in her hands, the dream turning to a nightmare - except one she couldn’t wake from. 

The walls still seemed to echo with her angry words - things said that could never be unsaid. And worst of all he’d been so _quiet_ ; not defending himself, not fighting back, not arguing, not even apologising. He’d just been _standing there_ , absorbing it all silently, eyes dark and resigned and lost.

Folding her arms around herself she shivered, wondering when she would begin to feel something other than dread and anger. How could it all have come to this? Three years, and all she had was a stranger wearing a familiar face and haunting memories.

Half turning, she saw the giant purple teddy bear on the sofa - the one he’d won for her the day of the May Fair. The day it had begun falling apart... 

(His hands around the photographer’s throat, his coldly furious dressing down, his anger at being interrupted... _‘You made me lose my concentration! Now I might have to do it again!’_ What exactly had he been doing?)

Then there was a tentative knock on the door, and she froze. 

After a moment the door slowly opened, to her great relief revealing Matt who looked around, puzzled. Especially when he realised that she was just standing there, not moving.

“Allie? Alex sent me a text asking me to come round...”

His voice trailed off as he took in the look on her face, and she shook her head.

“That’s not his name,” she said, needing to somehow distance the boy she had dated for the past three years from the alien she had today discovered. 

Understanding and concern slowly asserted themselves on Matt’s face.

“He told you then. I... take it that it didn’t go well?”

She bit her lip, trying to stop it from unaccountably wobbling.

“It really, _really_ didn’t.”

And, as if admitting it out loud, the emotions she’d been holding at bay abruptly flooded through her - loss and pain and heartbreak and sheer _shock_ caught up with her in earnest, and she burst into tears.


	24. Chapter 24. Interlude featuring the End of the World.

_‘Earth Death in 5 minutes.’_

He was sitting sideways in the open door of his spacecraft, the beat hovering on the edge of his consciousness (one-two-three-four- _dum_ -da-da-dum- _dum_ -da-da-dum), proving oddly soothing in ways he hadn’t expected... His very own little Archangel Network, a tiny cocoon hiding him - the very first modification he’d fitted once his ship had been returned to him. 

(They’d wired the secret tracker into the vortex manipulator itself he eventually discovered, and it had taken him _weeks_ to undo it, as he had to make sure it still appeared to be functioning - he was _never_ going to be followed again.)

So he cloaked himself, safe from being found by the present, and protecting the past from sensing what it mustn’t. (Spoilers could undo his very existence...)

And the subtle beat hummed on - no reason modifying what he knew worked.

 

_‘Earth Death in 4 minutes’_

Below him Earth was laid out, glowing like an unholy red jewel against the soft, indifferent darkness. 

(These truths we hold to be self-evident: Everything ends, and everything dies.)

His childhood home... And yet never his. Close, but never closer. One of them, but not.

Born out of time, far above the dirt of the common people, there was no place he could point to as his origin - a child from a paradox, who shouldn’t exist, born to rule an empire that never was.

(The last child of a dead people; his first companions monsters from the end of time - future ghosts killing the present, running from the cold and the dark and the end of all things. But no one could run forever.) 

 

_‘Earth Death in 3 minutes’_

But his human life was a lie too, a carefully constructed reality of half-truths and pretence and sleights-of-hand. 

Yet he had existed in between the two realities for so long he wasn’t even sure who he was now; lying such a part of him that telling the truth had been like a head-rush, a strange new pleasure that he had indulged in to his own downfall - not holding back, not measuring things but flooding her until she drowned... Never remembering the most basic of lessons:

>   
>  _I will to the end of my days, with justice and with honour temper my actions and my thoughts._   
> 

And yet... How could _he_ uphold those ideals? He was the son of renegades and liars, legends and terrors, their names sealed into the stars for eternity, trailing death in their wake.

Could there ever have been a half-way? It was all or nothing...

 

_‘Earth Death in 2 minutes’_

Because he had always known the truth could break them, a conversation from long ago echoing in his mind, from back when things had first fractured...

> “Told you that you wouldn’t leave because I got in your way...”
> 
> “Who says I’m leaving?” she had asked, and he’d shaken his head.
> 
> “I’m not changing. I _can’t_ change. Not in any way that would satisfy you at least... Can you accept that? Accept me?”

Unveiling what he was had only dazzled her for a moment (a single golden day) - all the truths he’d so carefully tried to keep out of the way tearing them apart as he’d foreseen - as she had sensed even back then...

> “I think I can finally see how you resemble your father.”

Worst of all there was no one else to blame. He had made his choice three years ago - deliberately, eyes open, fully aware of the price he’d have to pay. Had wanted the lie, grasping it with both hands, extending it for as long as he could - balancing on the edge of reveal for so long that the act had almost become a part of him, the twin realities of his life always in his sight.

In return he’d had three years, and one perfect day. 

Which was more than he’d expected.

So why did it feel so sudden?

 

_‘Earth Death in 1 minute’_

Maybe it was the pain... He hadn’t anticipated it to be so all-consuming. Like being frozen; the loss making it near impossible to even breathe, the very core of him cast into cold fire. 

Maybe this is what dying feels like, he thought dully. Except dying brought with it rebirth - and here there was only loss and destruction.

Which had brought him to the end of the world.

Somewhere on the other side of the condemned planet the Doctor and Rose were running around the way heroes did, saving the lives of people onboard Platform One. Beautiful, long-lost Rose Tyler, the Valiant Child who had died in battle, only 19 here, two years younger than-

And Jack... His very own forever Jack. 

But there was no one watching the death of Earth.

Except him.

 

_‘Planet explodes in 10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1’_

He never looked away as the planet shattered from the inside out; burning, fragmenting - destroyed. His ship shook lightly as the blast waves hit, the silence of space somehow more deafening than any noise, swallowing him in its emptiness.

Rocks and dust all that was left.

 _‘So small, isn’t it?’_ his father had said, the first time he had seen Earth, not even an hour old. _‘Such a small kingdom. But don’t worry little prince, soon enough we’ll have more worthy subjects to rule over. And maybe a castle... what do you think, does a castle sound nice?’_

But he didn’t want castles or kingdoms. He wanted _her_. And now she was gone. 

There was a fragment of a song in his mind, playing against the beat of the artificial drums...

_You made me feel like the one_  
 _Made me feel like the one_  
 _The one_  
 _You made me feel like the one_  
 _Made me feel like the one_  
 _The one_

But he wasn’t, and never had been.

“Goodbye,” he whispered, before eventually turning away. 

(She would be OK. She was human, had friends and family - _good_ people, people wholly different from him. Babushka had said she’d be loved by a good man... Yes, she would be fine, in the end. She had a whole new life waiting, every door in the world open to her (he’d made sure of that), and she had the brains and drive to make all her dreams come true.)

But _he_ needed something else. Something to dull the incessant, ever-present, constant pain. Something like... oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song mentioned is Dakota by Stereophonics, which has _always_ been their song.


	25. Chapter 25

She seemed to cry forever. She had always wondered about women in books (like Elizabeth Bennet), who could apparently sit down and cry for half an hour straight - she now found out that this was no exaggeration. Matt (always-there, dependable Matt) held her gently, clearly not caring that she was soaking his jumper. When she finally seemed to run out of tears, she realised that they were far closer than they’d ever been, and maybe it was a tad uncomfortable...

(Well, no, it was very comfortable, but that was possibly part of the problem; oh god, what she wouldn’t do for some TLC right now... Something, anything, to take her mind off the pain. Which is why things like this were too clichéd for words, she supposed. And she didn’t want to make things worse than they already were.)

Pulling back, she gratefully took the tissues he had found, and tried a wobbly smile as she did her best to recover the merest smidgen of dignity.

“Thank you... I needed that. Although I hope you’ve not had a secret crush on me all this time, because you’re not really my type.”

He shook his head.

“No. Really not. But... if you want to talk about it, I could make some tea?”

Looking around at the boxes that populated the flat, he added, tentatively: “If there’s any tea things still out that haven’t been packed away...”

When she nodded confirmation he went into the kitchen, and she tried to somehow wrap her head around what had happened rather than just reacting...

Three years, and suddenly it was all over.

Three years of lies, of pretense... How was she supposed to sort through it? Which parts had been real? She’d thought she _knew_ him, thought they had a _future_ , thought one day they might even get married, have children... 

In a single day, all her dreams, all her hopes - ruined. The betrayal of it stung her, and she struggled to understand _why_. What had he wanted with her, why the lies, why... everything? 

Looking up, she saw Matt enter with two cups.

“You knew,” she said - not a question, a statement. “You and Josh - you _knew_. And you helped him lie to me.”

Matt sighed, carefully setting down the cups on the table.

“Yes. Josh wanted him to tell you - you and Jamie both, back when you all first started dating - and he and Alex had a major row over it.”

Allison vaguely recalled the tail-end of an argument once, way back when, but it was so long ago that the details were lost to her, so she focussed on the main issue:

“But - you never told.”

Matt blew on his tea, thoughtfully studying the distance and avoiding her eyes.

“No. After all... it was his relationship, not ours...”

“But didn’t you think I had a _right_ to know?”

She was directing her anger at Matt now, which was deeply unfair, but she needed someone to shout at. And he was taking it well.

“That’s _exactly_ what Josh said. But Alex wanted...” He studied her for the longest moment, and she braced herself for what might come.

“He wanted to be normal, just once. To have an ordinary relationship. One where you could be more or less equals?”

Her tea forgotten, things finally began to slot together and make sense. Not that it made for a nice picture...

“And I was his ‘ordinary’ girlfriend,” she said bitterly. “His taste of normality. I never knew that ‘Common People’ was our song.”

Matt reached out, put his hand on hers.

“He was in love. People do stupid things when they’re in love. And I think - I mean I’m guessing here - but I presume he was worried about losing you if he told the truth...”

She almost laughed at this (the sort of laughter that would probably turn to tears again) because oh, the crazy absurdity - the horrible, ironic catch-22 of it all. And he must have known how she’d take it. No wonder he’d been so reluctant to commit...

“Besides - it’s not like we had much of a choice,” Matt added, and the laughter died on her lips.

“I don’t suppose you did,” she said, picking up her cup, needing something to stabilise her as dread shot through her again- a heavy, sharp feeling in the middle of her chest that came and went, but hadn’t left her since-

“Allie,” Matt said gently. “Don’t be too hard on him.”

“Don’t- _are you fucking kidding me?_ Do you know what he did? What he could do? What-”

She bit off the sentence before she could say anymore, but Matt didn’t flinch.

“I’ve seen him threaten a whole horde of heavily armed, dangerous aliens with nothing but his name and his heritage. And seen them fold.”

Her eyes widened. So _many_ things she had never known...

“I’ve also seen him spellbound by magic tricks and balloon animals when we were four years old... I - can’t really separate the one from the other. He’s just Alex to me. Josh... had a lot more issues, as I’m sure you’ve guessed.”

“Nevermind Josh, go back to the part with the aliens. When was this? What happened?”

“We were abducted by aliens. The summer we were sixteen.”

And the crazy just kept coming...

“Are you serious?”

“I can tell you the story if you like? It’s... how we found out he wasn’t human.”

She nodded, and, as she slowly drank her tea, listened carefully as Matt relayed their adventures on the Glattian ship. Now and again he’d hesitate, but she forced him to tell everything, even the parts that made her shiver all over again.

No wonder he’d not told her.

And here, finally, was the original cause of all the friction between him and Josh... As well as the reason they never talked about his father. It was the only point when Matt really struggled, searching for words.

“It’s one thing to have been told that someone is ‘evil’ and ‘insane’, but to see it is...”

He pressed his lips together, deliberating.

“It was the fact that he was so casual about it, I think. It’s not what he says - although that’s part of it - it’s _how_. I - I can’t explain it. But if you’re unfortunate enough to ever meet him, you’ll see. The other thing was that Alex was just so _resigned_...”

Her tea gone, Allison studied the bottom of her cup, as he continued:

“I can’t imagine growing up with that kind of parentage. I know Alex is far from normal, but compared to his father...”

This was not a subject she was quite ready to delve into just yet. ‘Brought up by a hero, a villain and a secret government agent’ he’d said once. It had seemed like a glib line, something to brush off responsibility. But if taken seriously, to its logical deduction... what did it _mean_?

How did you navigate a world where ‘punishment’ meant having your spaceship taken off you? Where your father would kill people with perfect insouciance, and it was nothing more than what you’d expected... 

She shivered again. How had she become entangled in all these things, so much bigger than herself? She was absurdly grateful for Matt’s calm presence - he had to have gone through at least some of what she was experiencing. Then a thought occurred to her, and she studied him anew.

“Sorry, but- you live at least ten minutes away. How did you get here so quickly? You turned up, like, two minutes after Alex left...”

Matt replied slowly, clearly working things out in his head as he spoke.

“Well I got the message about fifteen-twenty minutes before Alex left you here... But then he’s a time traveller. He could have sent the message any time. I don’t know what happened between you, but at some point he obviously thought that you shouldn’t be alone...” A frown. “I was supposed to be at a meeting tonight, but it was cancelled last minute. Guess this was why.”

Alex was clearly still looking after her, moving events and people for her sake - she was simultaneously touched and disturbed. 

“Doesn’t it bother you?” she asked, unsure at Matt’s non-reaction. “The way he... manipulates everything?”

Scratching the back of his head he seemed rather flummoxed.

“I... I don’t know. He’s always done it, so maybe I’m conditioned? No really, even when we were four, five years old he’d get the other kids to get along, making sure everyone was happy. And later, when he was... eight I think, he’d start to do it with the teachers too - and everyone else. Never overt, but things would just always - or almost always - simply work out how he wanted them. He tended to call it good planning and the ability to predict outcomes...”

This was not in the least reassuring, but Matt didn’t seem to notice her increased discomfort as he continued.

“What gets _me_ is how trivial it all is. The things he could do... Allie, do you know how many people die needlessly every day? How much he could _help_? We’ve argued about this over and over, and he never seems to understand that I don’t want him to fix _everything_. I just wish he’d do _something_. I’m sure the history of the world wouldn’t suffer all that much if he introduced a universal cure for cancer or AIDS a few years early. Or eliminated malaria. Or stopped a war in Africa. But he just hides behind non-interference mumbo-jumbo.”

In her mind, Alex was saying ‘I could do terrible things in the name of good...’ and she swallowed. She and Matt were really not on the same page. If only Josh were here... He’d understand where she was coming from.

Because she still had _his_ vision sealed onto her mind. Golden and beautiful and impossible. Her shattered illusion, broken and fractured, the different parts mocking her with what couldn’t be, because it hadn’t been _Alex’s_ vision, but the Seeker’s. And whoever ‘the Seeker’ was, he wasn’t her boyfriend. 

(She’d lost him. Her Alex. She’d given him her heart, but had he ever been real? It was almost worse than if he’d died... What had she fallen in love with? A mirage? A shadow? A lie?)

Like an iceberg - had she been thinking that earlier on? - she’d only seen one part of him, the rest hidden in the dark, under the water... Unseen, unknown, _waiting_. 

Did that make her the Titanic? 

Then Matt’s voice intruded and she tried to pay attention to what he was saying.

“Listen, Allie - you’re going to Manchester tomorrow. Would you like me to come with you? To help when the removal guys come for all the boxes and that?”

Manchester. She’d managed to blank that whole part out, even though she was surrounded by boxes. The thought of having to be _organised_ and talk to people and work out what was happening when seemed like an effort she couldn’t even contemplate. Everything hurt so much she just wanted a pause button.

(He could that - step out of time, literally...)

“Yes. Yes, please, if you’d do that I would be forever in your debt. I can’t...”

(Don’t cry again. Not yet, at least. There are limits to what you can ask of him.)

“Hey. What are friends for?” Matt smiled, and she tried an answering smile. It made her face feel all wrong.

***

Matt left a little later, as he needed to get some sleep and she assured him she'd be OK until morning, but Allison herself didn’t even contemplate going to bed. The thought of sleeping alone in _their_ bed was inconceivable, the sheer loneliness almost too much to grasp. Her every instinct, every behavioural pattern built up over three years, made her want to turn to Alex. And he wasn’t there. Would _never_ be there, ever again. She could, in theory, go back to him, but it would be a Time Lord waiting for her.

Desperate for something to keep her occupied - something to stop her going over things again and again, her mind determined to go in circles and generally behaving like a demented boomerang - she picked up her laptop and decided to be pro-active.

She ended up staying awake best part of the night, editing her online profiles and home sites. She started by changing her relationship status to ‘None of your damned business’, and from then went on to create, and then run, a programme that found and made private everything associated with Alex - every picture, every update, every casual message - so at least she could start with something approaching a clean slate when she got to Manchester.

Halfway through she saw a message pop up, and tentatively opened it.

_‘Hiya darling, have you split up from Mr Perfect? Tell me all about it when you can, yeah? I’m in Kuala Lumpur atm - take off in 10 minutes - so I’ve got to log off, the boss is giving me the evil eye. The Capitano xxxx’_

She couldn’t help but smile. Jess Capitano, one of the friends who’d turned up that first Christmas and had met Alex... Crazy Jess who’d always been flaunting the rules where Allison had been careful to study. Jess who’d on the spur of the moment had decided to become an air hostess, and taken to it like a duck to water. 

Allison really wished Jess wasn’t halfway across the world. Wished that their friendship hadn’t become sporadic and almost-lost as they’d both pursued their different lives. Jess would take her out on the town, get both of them too drunk by far, and tell her all about how there were plenty more fish in the sea, before demonstrating this by ensnaring a whole gaggle of eager lads. 

She sent back a message saying that yes, they needed to catch up, then with a sigh clicked on Alex’s home site (he only ever had the one page), and blinked as she realised he’d been doing exactly what she had done.

(Although _when_ was of course a moot point... She wondered where he was now, what he was doing. He could go anywhere, do anything...) 

The page had been cleared of everything except a few lines, which she read, a frown forming on her forehead.

__

  
**Alexander Saxon, B.Sc., M.Sc., Sc.D.  
Independent Researcher**

If you wish to contact Mr Saxon, please send an email to a.saxon@archangel.org   


They were awarding him a _higher_ doctorate, rather than a normal PhD? Having looked into the subject in some depth, she knew that no one became a Doctor of Science without demonstrating ‘a substantial and sustained contribution to scientific knowledge’, over the course of a career... Just the vetting could take more than a year.

What the hell had he done?

(She remembered asking him on the day, and he’d just smiled at her, that perfect Saxon grin that should have unsettled her so much more than it had. “I took the Natural Sciences and turned them inside out and upside down and made them dance a little jig!” he’d replied, and when she had mock-slapped his arm he had laughed: “No really. A _jig_!”)

A jig then. After all he’d created a _planet_ , a human PhD was clearly a walk in the park...

Then, at the very bottom of the page, she discovered a link she had never seen before which said simply ‘Hermits United’. 

For a long moment she sat looking at it, debating with herself. She’d noticed the email address and figured the whole thing was probably carried on the Archangel Network, which made her want to shut everything down and run a virus check. Yet she was well aware that if he wanted to invade cyber space - or her computer, her _life_ \- there was no way she could stop it. This was not a comforting thought, but she couldn’t deny the logic. ‘Archangel’ indeed. Always watching? 

Despite her father’s endless talk about feminism and the way society was geared towards male power she had never felt vulnerable or powerless before. She was smart and capable, and besides she lived in 21st Century England where there were laws and rules in place to ensure equality and all the rest. Except Alex (the Seeker, a _Time Lord_ ) could bypass the whole thing. Could make all of NASA dance to his tune and launch a rocket just for her sake, or cancel a friend’s meeting so he could send him round to look after her. Like- like an alien Big Brother figure. Able to see everything, influence everything, change it to fit his desires...

(And there was that feeling in her chest again.)

She remembered going round to Josh’s after the incident with the photographer, incredulous at Alex’s attitude, and Josh’s response had been much more blunt than she’d anticipated. There hadn’t been any of the apologeticness that Matt had exhibited...

Unable to recall the exact wording, Josh had confirmed that his friend could indeed ‘do anything he wanted’, the rules not applying. And then said something about this being the central thing she needed to accept if she wanted a relationship with Alex.

She’d thought him a little flippant at the time, and not exactly as helpful as she’d hoped, but now realised that he’d been trying to warn her. If only she’d listened more carefully. But then she’d never imagined how literally she needed to take... everything.

Staring at the page, and the new link, she eventually decided that above all she wanted more information. Wanted to know as much as she could about what was actually going on behind all the lies. (And anyway, it wasn’t as if she could sleep...)

Clicking on the link, she immediately found herself on a completely blank page.

As she stared at it, puzzled, a pop-up appeared, bearing the words ‘Visitor privileges pending’, a small swirly circle slowly turning until the words dissolved and ‘Visitor privileges granted’ appeared in their stead.

The pop up itself then vanished and the page now bore writing. The start date was a few weeks after the alien invasion in the summer...

>   
> **‘Hermits United’  
>  Meeting up every 10 years to discuss caves**
> 
> _28.06.2028_
> 
> Members: Captain Jack Harkness, the Doctor, the Master, the Seeker  
> Moderator: the Seeker
> 
> Membership by invitation only.
> 
> [Two memberships pending.]
> 
>  
> 
> _15.07.2028_
> 
> > Master, stop holding up the process you dick!   
> CJH
> 
> > Doctor, will you be so kind as to keep your pet humans in better check? You’d have thought this one would have learnt his place by now.  
> The Master
> 
> > My trigger finger is getting itchy. How would you like a new face?  
> CJH
> 
> >Vulgar, crude and unoriginal. What a surprise.  
> The Master
> 
>  
> 
> _16.07.2028_
> 
> [Pending memberships have been processed]
> 
> [New members: Doctor River Song, the Redjay]
> 
> > If you lot don’t stop arguing I’m taking the whole thing down. Good grief! Jack - you should have said dad was messing around. It’s all fixed now. And dad? Do _not_ harass the ladies.   
> S.
> 
> > Oh I would _love_ to see him try...  
> Prof. Song
> 
> > River, don’t encourage him! Plus, you’re crossing your time line. Again.  
> The Doctor
> 
> > You’re no fun.  
> Prof. Song
> 
> > Sorry if I misunderstood, but I thought this was a forum for serious messages, to be used in emergencies - like the Subwave network, but more reliable?   
> Redjay
> 
> > It is, Roda. Ignore them.  
> CJH
> 
>  
> 
> _25.08.2028_
> 
> > So, that giant spaceship parked in the Welsh valleys with the invisibility shield to turned up to maximum?  
> The Doctor
> 
> > A friend of mine! Sorry. Been busy catching up.   
> CJH
> 
> > Oooh, can I join? I’m very fond of catching up.  
> Doctor Song
> 
> > By all means...  
> CJH
> 
> > _Serious_ messages! Oh who am I kidding, you’ll all just use it to flirt/insult each other. Why am I even trying? The Earth is clearly doomed.  
> S.

And that was all.

She looked at it for along moment, realising that Alex (no the Seeker, she kept forgetting the name thing) must have set it up as a precaution after the invasion - as always creating something useful in response to a problem. And he still signed things with only the ‘S’ - it clearly didn’t stand for Saxon, as he’d told her, but Seeker... 

Or both.

She buried her head in her hands. Behind everything, a different truth. Like fractals, every single thing dissolved into smaller component parts, half-truth, half-lie, nothing - _nothing_ as it seemed...

The past three years slipping through her fingers like sand, leaving only emptiness behind.

***

Eventually she fell asleep on the sofa, not stirring until there was a knock on the door. For the briefest moment she wondered why she was on the sofa, and how come Alex hadn’t put a blanket on her (he was always so conscientious) - and then remembered, the crushing reality of her life swallowing her up all over again.

It was only Matt at the door, and he (kindly, but authoritatively - he’d be a great doctor one day she was sure) forced her to have a shower, find clean clothes and have some breakfast. (She was certain she couldn’t eat a thing, but it was easier to do as he said than to find the willpower to argue.)

He also called up Toby to make sure that her brother would be there to meet them, and explained about the break-up as briefly as he could; and she was stupidly happy to have him there, sorting everything out for her.

(She didn’t dare look at her inbox. By now people would have woken up and be bombarding her with questions. And she had nothing to tell them except that it was all over. There was no way she could tell the truth...)

As Matt talked to the removal men she merely sat on the sofa, probably looking as unwell as Matt was making out. “Don’t worry Pet, we’ll get it all sorted!” one of them remarked with a fatherly air as he walked past with a box, and she tried to smile. 

(Inside she was screaming, hurting so much that the fact that she’d only had a 3 hours’ sleep barely registered - had it only been 24 hours since he’d told her?)

But Alex had (of course) arranged everything meticulously, and before she knew where she was they were on the road.

(Where was he now? What was he doing? Would he try to win her back, would he try... something? He could out-stalk Edward Cullen without even breaking sweat... But he wasn’t like that, was he? She’d sent him away, surely he’d respect that. Right?)

She tried to take a deep breath, calm herself down. He’d set her up with a new life, everything she needed at her finger tips (and that in itself spoke of planning and forethought that was downright creepy - he’d _expected_ her to break up with him?), but surely that also meant that he’d leave her alone. Except he’d never had a girlfriend before. Maybe even _he_ didn’t know how he’d react. He’d been so _quiet_...

Great, now she was going to go crazy from paranoia and heartbreak. Although at least it was justified.

***

When she said goodbye to Matt that afternoon, her new flat full of half-unpacked boxes and Toby and Troy busily trying to create order out of chaos, she realised she had one final question. Despite herself, she kept going over the vision in her mind, and one thing stuck out.

“Matt, sorry - can I ask something? What’s so special about Adelaide Brooke?”

Matt looked at her blankly.

“Who?”

"Adelaide Brooke? We worked with her at NASA. Why was Alex so... taken with her?”

He shook his head, puzzled, although he was probably thinking that this might have played into the break-up. Which she wouldn’t mind... It was a rumour she could live with.

After giving Matt a final hug she waved goodbye, before turning back to face her new flat and her new life. Except she had a sinking feeling that it would be far harder to escape the past three years than just moving to a different city.

If only- if only she didn’t still love him so much it made her feel all hollow.


	26. Chapter 26

His phone vibrated, and with a sigh (it had been a long day) Jack pulled it out. It was a message from the Seeker.

> _What drink/drug/species/other would you recommend as the fastest (preferably non-lethal, but I’m not fussy) route to oblivion?  
>  S._

He stared at it for a long moment, then showed it to Ianto.

Ianto however shook his head, clearly clueless, but observed that it didn't sound like the Seeker at all. Jack had to agree, and began entering the co-ordinates at the bottom of the message into his vortex manipulator... wondering if maybe it was a code.

He emerged in the teleport booth of one of the most unsavoury space bars he'd ever seen. The whole place screamed 'danger' and he figured that the number of weapons outnumbered the patrons by at least 10-to-1.

In the back he spotted the Seeker, slumped in a long comfy seat and focussed very intently on pouring himself another glass from a large bottle.

Making his way through the bar he ended up by the table, waiting for the Seeker to notice him.

"You shouldn't be here," Jack said, warily eyeing an argument three tables over that looked like it might get violent. "It's not safe."

The Seeker stared for a few moments, then burst out laughing, a heaving, desperate laughter that threatened to turn into tears.

"Oh Jack, I knew you'd cheer me up. Come, sit down, have a drink."

Ignoring the bottle that was pushed towards him, Jack nonetheless sat down next to the young Time Lord, wondering what had happened. The Seeker was the very by-word for calm. Except...

"What happened?" he asked tentatively, praying that it was not another unexpected death.

The Seeker stared at his now-full glass intently, and when he spoke his voice was utterly toneless.

"Allison broke up with me."

"Seeker..." he said helplessly.

“You know how they say that if you love something you should set it free? Well I did. And... I don’t think she’s coming back. It’s not like I didn’t expect it, you know, I always figured she might want out once I told her who I really am, ‘cause a relationship with a self-absorbed near-immortal who can't offer anything resembling a normal life is not that attractive. And that's what she said... that she liked Alex, but that she didn't know who I was anymore. Oh and she was also pretty pissed off about the lying-to-her-for-3-years. It was a nice touch, I liked that. But that's not why she left."

Jack was silent, waiting, and slowly brown eyes were turned towards him, deep with misery and drink.

"She was scared. Of me. Just me... I showed her what I am, and she was _terrified_. Three years, Jack, _three years_ she's known me, and she looked at me like-"

He swallowed, and Jack frowned.

"What exactly did you tell her?"

The Seeker smiled sadly. "Well I showed off, of course, giving her a guided tour of my planet and all the rest. And then I thought I'd show her one of the other benefits..."

Reaching out he touched Jack's temple gently and Jack felt the softest of mental touches - a barely there brush against the senses.

"Well... people don't like it when you run around inside their heads," he said, carefully neutral, and the Seeker sighed.

"I didn't think. I suppose she was even smarter than I ever gave her credit for... She started asking about Archangel and that was it, everything just... fell apart. I didn't even get to the part where I was brought up by two of the greatest mass murderers in the history of the universe - or what they're grooming me for."

The boy was looking ahead now, possibly speaking to himself, but Jack could feel dread spreading as he began to take in the implications of the words. Reaching out he turned the kid towards him, speaking slowly and deliberately.

"Seeker... You are _not_ a killer."

He received one of the darkest smiles he'd ever seen in return.

" _Yet_ , Jack. I'm not a killer _yet_."

And Jack realised that he recognised the look in the boy's eyes - it was the same he'd seen that day after he turned 8. ( _‘One day they'll all be dead, but I won't...’_ ) Eyes that saw so much more than they should.

Seeing the look on his face, the Seeker sighed. "Oh come on Jack, it doesn't take a genius. The Doctor lives a life as dangerous as you, if not more so, except he’s not as immortal as you. Once he's gone, who's going to look after things?"

Jack didn't know what to say. The Seeker shrugged.

"Even if I adhere to the the strictest Time Lord codes - which I very much intend to do - and only get involved when there's a threat to fixed points in time and stuff like that, rather than actively seeking out trouble, I'm sure there's plenty of slaughter in my future."

He lifted his glass in a mock-toast.

"To the family business."

Draining the glass he nearly missed the table as he put it back down.

A scaly hand grabbed both hand and glass, and they looked up to find a Krohn looking down at them with a sneer on its face, its small pig-like red eyes bulging and hostile.

"I don't like humans!" it stated, in broken intergalactic, and Jack swore silently as he checked for exits and wondered how much fighting he had to do, or whether he should just grab the boy and jump into the vortex... He should have insisted that they leave the second he got here, places like this were breeding grounds for trouble. 

Casting the Seeker a glance he saw that the kid looked beyond furious - whether this was because of being mistaken for a human, or for the slight to his mother's race - or just the alcohol - was anyone's guess. Trying his most charming and deadly smile Jack opened his mouth, but the Seeker cut in.

"Go. Away."

The Krohn growled.

"What did you say?"

"Go. Away. You want - to go - _away._ "

The concentration on the Seeker’s face was absolute, the words slow and deliberate, and the Krohn suddenly blinked.

"I'm going away now," it said, then turned and left, leaving the Seeker to sigh deeply, before burying his head in his hands and leaning heavily on Jack's shoulder.

"Stars, my _head!_ Drinking messes up _everything_..."

Jack didn't quite know what to say, watching silently as the youngster sunk further into his coat.

"I love your smell, Jack," he mumbled. "'S like the icing on the cake, you know? Like... you're so perfectly impossible, and handsome, and charming, and then you smell good on top of that. Not that I can smell you from across time and space, but..." 

He slowly opened his eyes.

"You're my favourite thing in the world Jack, did I ever tell you that? The single most important thing in my life. Ever."

Not the time and place. Really, really not. 

"Aaaand, I think it's time to get you home."

"No - listen! I'm not just sayin' this because I'm drunk. You shouldn't exist, but you do! And I can't lose you... You're mine forever and ever and ever. I can sense you, anywhere, anywhen... My very own forever Jack."

“Seeker-”

The despair in the boy’s eyes was downright terrifying, and Jack knew exactly how he felt - that first true taste of true loneliness. Not just the knowledge, but the actual _understanding_ that everyone would one day leave... 

(Except him. Abruptly he understood why the Seeker had asked him to come, and his heart broke a little more. The kid had lost his first love, and all he had left was a freak - but then the boy spoke again and overthrew everything he thought he knew.)

“I love you. I think it’s love. I don’t know, I don’t think there is a name for it. The important thing is, they think you’re wrong, but you’re not. You’re a miracle. _My_ miracle.”

With an urgency and insistence that Jack had never encountered before the boy was now grasping his coat so fiercely that his knuckles were turning white.

“Please Jack - I never told you, I never knew how, but I want you to know. It was when I looked in the Schism...”

His grasp on the coat loosened as his eyes unfocussed, lost in the memory.

“I still have nightmares sometimes. I was so little and so _scared_ and it _hurt_... I could see... the whole of the vortex, and I was so very, very small and insignificant - I wanted to run, but I couldn’t move, and I was getting lost. Like... Like in Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy? It’s a punishment - making people see themselves in relation to the eternity of the universe and it _destroys_ them. And I could feel it happening, could see how everything ends, and everything dies, the _reality_ of eternity, and what was I compared to that? And then... I saw _you_.”

The Seeker’s eyes seemed to glow, and Jack didn’t know what to do. Didn’t even understand what was happening. 

“I saw how you fit, how you are woven into the very fabric of the universe, and how _impossible_ that is - but still, you were there! And if _you_ are possible, then... _anything_ is. And suddenly I could see possibility everywhere. I could see _all of time and space_ and it was _wonderful_. Because you are wonderful. Jack...”

The boy swallowed, looking at him in a way he couldn’t even begin to quantify, something far beyond anything he had ever imagined.

“Dad might have created me, and the Doctor might have brought me up, but _you_ \- you made me who I am, made me _me_. Made me the _Seeker_.”

The hands had now unfurled completely and the Seeker reached up, slowly stroking Jack’s cheek.

“You don’t need to do or say anything, I don’t _need_ anything. I just wanted you to know.”

It was good that he didn’t need to respond, because Jack didn’t have a clue what to say. He knew the boy had been relying on him ever since his eighth birthday, and Jack had kept his secrets, looking out for him as best he could. He’d thought it a matter of practicality and closeness and convenience. A strange, but important friendship, that almost tipped into quasi-brotherhood.

But this...

He remembered Christmas, the small victory he’d (rather shamefully) felt towards the Master after the lad had kissed Ianto. Something like this had never even occurred to him. Yet it made sense of a lot things that he’d never thought to examine before. Like how the Seeker had defended him so fiercely after everything had gone to hell on his eighteenth... As if an attack on Jack was worse than one on himself.

“By the way,” the Seeker continued, almost casually after downing another glass, “you better not ever go evil, ‘cause Rassilon knows I’d do anything for you. ‘Cause you’re, you know, mine. The way I see it anyway.”

Studying Jack as carefully as he could, he frowned.

“You don’t mind being mine, do you? I won’t come between you or anyone you love, it’s not like that.” He tilted his head, blinking to re-adjust drink-warped sight. “Sorry if I’m being arrogant again, I know I can’t own you. But can I have you anyway? For always?”

“Of course you can,” Jack said solemnly, still too deeply shaken to actually respond, before taking a unsteady breath and programming his wrist strap. Time to go, in more ways than one.

Before he could activate the manipulator, a hand stopped him.

"Not Earth. Earth s'not home anymore. And... my ship's here - there's a transmat down to the garage behind the teleporting booth."

“Fine,” Jack sighed, and dragged the youngster into an approximation of standing upright. He wanted to be cross with Allison, but quite frankly he couldn’t blame her. He loved the boy to distraction, but... _issues_. Mountain ranges could be built from those issues, and this new revelation... He sighed, desperately hoping he could live up to at least a fraction of the confidence the boy had in him. The other stuff he’d have to process later. 

Back on the Seeker's planet he was getting the near-unconscious boy into bed, the suns setting in the amber sky outside. Jack had thought him asleep, until he turned to the door, and was then stopped in his tracks.

“I could get her back, you know...” The voice was barely above a whisper. “Go back, do it all again. Try different things, find all the right words... Do you know how easy it is to play with people’s memories? How simple to take apart their minds - adding, subtracting, moulding them to what you want...”

Jack had turned, silently watching the young Time Lord. 

“Isn’t it ironic - the only way to get her back is to become that which she broke up with me over.”

He bit his lip, looking like he was going to cry.

“Jack... Please stop me if I ever try? I’m not sure I trust myself right now...”

A beat, as his heart seemed to break all over again, but all he did was nod.

“Always, Seeker.”

And with something like peace on his face, the Seeker finally allowed himself to let go and sink into oblivion.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains mentions of non-con.

Allison’s first weeks in Manchester were not exactly an unmitigated success. She was operating more or less on autopilot, and if hadn’t been for Toby and Troy she wasn’t sure how she’d have coped.

Troy had taken one look at her when she’d turned up, and - ignoring Matt and the removal men - had hugged her fiercely, before calling Alex a bastard and other terrible names (not even asking what happened or who had broken up with whom), then told her she needed a haircut and called his current temporary work and told them he’d not be in for the next week. They told him not to bother at all in that case, to which his response was to tell them to sod off. 

As she stared at his fierce freckled face wordlessly (had he really just quit a job for her sake?), he shrugged.

“What are gay best friends for?” he asked, aiming for a smile. Instead she for a moment - so brief she almost didn’t catch it - saw a glimpse of the person Toby had spoken about - the hurt young boy beneath the brash exterior. His next words bore it out.

“Besides I’ve been there.”

She nodded, wondering who had hurt him, and why. Still, she felt the need to set things straight.

“Thank you. But he’s not a bastard. Well he is, but I knew that already and I was OK with that. It’s just... complicated. I’ll explain later.”

***

‘Later’ took a while to turn up, however. The mere thought of trying to _explain_ was currently beyond her, and _life_ kept insisting that she _do_ things and function as a human being, rather than curl up in a corner and cry.

Thankfully Toby and Troy were marvellous when it came to helping her get sorted and used to a new town. They unpacked her stuff, found out where all the corner shops and public transport were - as well as all the other details of daily life - and although the flat felt strange and new and lonely, at least it was habitable and warm.

That is, until the central heating broke down on her third day.

As luck would have it (nor not, rather) the landlord was in hospital for some kind of minor surgery and couldn’t get anything done about it, so she had to go buy a little heater in order not to freeze in the sudden autumn cold and had showers at Toby’s.

Plus food was a problem. Alex had always kept all the cupboards and fridge stocked, and suddenly having to remember to constantly buy _more food_ so she didn’t run out was yet another thing to juggle. How had her mum coped with bringing up five children whilst working and running a household? Apparently Allison couldn’t even feed herself.

She vaguely remembered being very strict with herself back when she’d first started university, but she was too exhausted to attempt being organised. Back then she hadn’t had a broken heart...

***

And then there were her studies. Manchester University was _huge_ , one of the largest in the world, and although Cambridge had been a university town, the colleges had all been cosy and old and full of strange, yet comforting traditions. Manchester consisted mostly of shiny modern buildings, all glass and steel, and she felt... displaced - mentally, physically, spatially.

She turned up for enrolment feeling like a plant that had been forcefully uprooted and badly repotted. Inside she was still hurting so much she almost felt numb, constantly turning everything over in her mind, wondering how much had been real, how much he had lied, what next - would he try to win her back, what was she going to _do_ now? She missed him every waking second, so used to being a couple that she constantly found herself wanting to talk to him, or show him something - and instead there was nothing.

The outside was different too - her hair cut in a bob (with a fringe) that made her do a double take every time she caught sight of herself in a reflective surface. Troy assured her that she looked wonderful, and had also insisted on highlights, but she felt like it was just camouflage. (Or maybe that’s what he meant?) He’d also updated her wardrobe, and she felt she couldn’t really complain. It _did_ help to feel different.

She just wasn’t sure who she was yet: Allison Whitwell, newly single, and so very lost.

The figurative ‘lost’ became literal during the enrolment process, as all the corridors looked identical and the place was like a maze. There were supposed to be signs, but she suspected that they were invisible, or had maybe been taped to the ceiling, as she couldn’t see any.

On top of this the university had just installed a new computer system, which of course had all kinds of teething problems, and the process - supposedly taking an hour - took much, much longer. As she’d not brought any food she was starving when she finally left, fuming because of a particularly rude member of staff, and without an ID card as the machines had decided to go into meltdown.

She also had to talk to someone about finances - not that she was in any trouble, but she needed to know how the funding worked and what her budget was and how it all functioned... There were forms and rules and papers that needed signing and sending to different places, and an actual headache was soon added to her woes.

Collapsing on Toby and Troy’s sofa that evening (she wanted to go home, but her flat would be an ice box, and she’d forgotten to buy milk so wouldn’t be able to have any tea), she lamented how _difficult_ everything was. Cambridge had been _so_ much easier, she couldn’t remember anything like this. 

She found her voice trailing off, tea cup half way to her mouth, as realisation hit.

Because she _did_ remember things being complicated. Her first few days, trying to find her feet and navigating all the unknowns - it had been just a difficult as now, broken heart apart.

But then there had been Alex.

Alex who had slowly taken over running her life. Her last year, when they lived together, she’d had exactly zero every day issues. It wasn’t just the food shopping, it had been _everything_. Bills and finances, cleaning, tidying, daily schedules - any practical issue at all was just taken care of without her even having to think about it. He was so reliable that she’d never even noticed.

So much for her feminist ideals and standing on her own two feet. 

But it was no good feeling sorry for herself - she would quite simply have to pull herself together. Sooner rather than later.

***

By focussing intently on this goal, she had just about managed to get on top of everyday life by the time the course started. If she could only create a good routine, she should be able to at least function, and hopefully do some actual work. She remembered being rather excited about the course once upon a time... Especially the fact of Professor Brian Cox.

He wasn’t one of the main leaders of the course, but he turned up one of the first days and did an enthusiastic talk, at which point Allison discovered that she was thoroughly underwhelmed, disinterested, and quite frankly couldn’t care less.

Her Alex had created a planet when only a teenager; could hold galaxies in his hands if he so wanted. And although it terrified her, it also meant that she wasn’t exactly impressed with a former pop star who happened to know a bit about particle physics.

She wanted to _learn_ , not to be talked _at_. Idly she started doodling on her pad, soothing calculations that helped take her mind off things. (She dearly hoped no one would ask whether she was bored, because she would be incapable of feigning enthusiasm...)

As she was leaving, breathing a sigh of relief and hoping she’d never see Professor Cox again, one of her new fellow students caught her by the arm and invited her round for a party that night - apparently a group of them were renting a house together and thus had plenty of room. She smiled, and said something noncommittal in response - she could always pretend that something had come up.

But when mentioning it in passing whilst telling Toby and Troy about the day’s events, Troy immediately decided that she was going. She protested vainly that she’d happier at home watching the TV, and she wasn’t remotely in a party mood, and besides she didn’t have anything to wear. It was one thing forcing herself to be organised - it was hard, but just about doable. But she couldn’t force herself to be cheerful.

Troy, however, was having none of it.

“If you say here, you’ll just sit and cry into your tea. Go! If nothing else, it’s somewhere else to be miserable. And I’ll find some clothes for you.”

So she went.

(She used to be so forceful - now it was easier to let Troy nicely bully her into things. And he was probably right - if nothing else it would be a good opportunity to get to know people, she supposed.)

Still, she felt very out of place. The talk was flowing freely, everyone busy trying to find out about each other - and as they were a pretty international bunch, it was generally interesting. Or it would have been, if she’d been more herself...

It was the sort of group she’d usually flourish in, especially as every country mentioned was one she’d visited - either with the circus, or on their round-the-world trip... But every mention also brought with it a memory of Alex - so effortlessly wonderful and painful that instead she kept quiet, listening, and pretty much blending in with the wallpaper.

At one point someone decided to pass round a some pot (where did people find it so quickly?), but when asked if she wanted some, she declined.

“Go on - live a little!” the lad (Polish, with an unpronounceable name and a strong Yorkshire accent) said - and the flashback was so sudden and so strong that she could barely breathe. It was like unexpectedly getting stabbed.

_Alex - bathed in golden light, the setting Florida sun turning his hair platinum, and his eyes dancing..._

_“Allison, you’re only young once. Live a little.”_

They’d been so happy. So stupidly, ridiculously happy, that her current situation felt like living in a world of shades of grey after having been soaked in Technicolor for years... 

“I’ve lived,” she said curtly. “And you’re holding it wrong.”

“Ooooh, you’ve lived!” he replied, not put out in the least. “Do tell, love.”

“Sorry,” she said, blindly grabbing her bag (bought on a market in Morocco, with Alex charming the stall holder, effortlessly picking up the local dialect to the point of punning), “I’m really not feeling well. See you Monday?”

Later, curled up in bed, she realised that she knew exactly what the problem was...

_“I have nothing in common with all these children, playing at being grownups, but without a shred of responsibility except for managing a timetable.”_

The world was so much _bigger_ than any of them realised. So much more serious. So much more wonderful. So much more terrible. 

None of them knew what it was like to have a Golden Boy, to touch something truly otherworldly. To be caught between equal measures of awe and fear under a burnt orange sky, where the grass was red and the leaves silver... 

She still had a silver leaf. It was tucked into her purse, like some sort of talisman or ward; concrete proof that it hadn’t all been a dream.

Not that any dream could’ve made her cry quite so much...

***

Through everything, at the back of her mind, continually, she was thinking, thinking, thinking. Turning everything over and over again, like some sort of hamster in a wheel - running, but getting nowhere.

But eventually, after the initial shock had died down, she managed to parcel out her feelings and deal with them separately, rather than be overwhelmed with loss as she had been at first.

One, she was hurting because she’d broken up with her boyfriend. That one was normal, that one people understood, that one needed no explanations, and no one asked further questions, because they didn’t know there were further questions _to_ ask. The sheer staggering _loss_ and heartbreak was an ache she knew she’d have to just learn to live with. That’s just what happened when you broke up. 

However, that was just the beginning. 

Secondly - and most importantly, the thing everything else hinged on - could she ever trust him again? The way he’d _violated_ her mind (or invaded or entered or whatever word fitted best) could still make her suddenly shiver and feel sick. It was partly how it had happened, how something so intimate and tender and _close_ had become something else... But almost more than that had been the fact that he hadn’t understood why she’d been upset. It had been an _accident_ , he hadn’t even known he’d done it... 

If she was honest, she was perfectly aware that he was not a bad person. Despite all the lies, she knew him well enough for that. He might shy away from the whole ‘hero’ thing, but - apart from some odd morals - his heart (hearts, she dutifully corrected) were in the right place. No, she wasn’t scared he’d hurt her on purpose (presumably the Doctor or someone would stop him if it came to that, and besides it had been weeks and she’d not heard a thing) - no, she was worried he’d do it unwittingly. And not even understand why it was wrong... She didn’t know if it was a blind spot, or the way he’d been brought up or what. But his utter unconcern, the way he’d _smiled_ when he found out what he’d done... 

She could still hear him say ‘I’m highly telepathic’, completely unaware of why this might unsettle her. And if he’d put the golden vision in her head, how could she be sure that there wasn’t anything else? He’d lied so much... And this was on top of all the other stuff - the stuff she’d known about already. The cheating, the refusal to back down, the blatant manipulation, the million and one issues he carried around. All the stuff she’d to a greater or lesser extent turned a blind eye to, except she couldn’t do that any more.

The problems had always been there, they’d just been magnified and become obstacles she couldn’t ignore. 

Thirdly... _If_ she chose to trust him, did she actually want him? This had been _his_ main stumbling block she recalled, and even though it was not exactly top of her list, it was still important. Would she want a relationship with ‘the Seeker’, whoever he really was? The boy with his own planet, the alien boy with the human alias... the cleverest boy in the world. Literally. He could give her all the stars in the sky, but not a normal life. None of the things she’d been quietly dreaming of - the ordinary things. Like a life together. Growing old. Children... 

Plus, what was her work compared to his? What could she possibly contribute? She didn’t fancy herself as the assistant to the great genius, handing him tools and taking notes.

(In her head, she could hear her mother’s voice. She’d not really understood it at the time, but now? Oh now she did...

_“You might change the world, Allie dearest. I remember you in your pushchair, when you were just a toddler, looking at the stars and asking how they got up there. And you’ve never stopped. You are brilliant, and don’t let anyone - no matter how clever or handsome - steer you away from the path you should go.”_ )

Could she have both? Could she live in two worlds? And even if she chose to just say ‘Love conquers all’ and throw herself and her life at him (and a part of her was desperate to do so), it’d... be like Highlander. Did she want that? 

On and on and on her thoughts went, with no resolution in sight...

Studying turned out to be the only thing that really stopped this constant thought-carousel, so she worked, and she worked hard.

And there, at least, was an area where she could just be herself. Alex had never interfered with her studies in any way, to the point of actively avoiding helping her if she was stuck. 

He’d been incredibly secretive with his own work of course, so she’d thought it was some kind of reciprocal thing. Now, however, she began to suspect that he had left it alone in order to leave her one part of her life which was completely her own. She’d gotten where she was entirely by her own efforts, with no help from him at all, and could concentrate without feeling his absence. She was unsure whether to be grateful, or whether the degree of planning and foresight this displayed on his part was just plain disturbing. Because it meant that he’d anticipated their ending from the moment they began...

Her fellow students noticed her ‘work ethic’ of course. She’d always known she was clever, but during her BA she’d had Chen to constantly push her (they’d been neck and neck the whole time), not to mention   
Alex’s casual genius which had left her trailing. 

Knowing what he was had somehow helped her to trust her own talent more. She’d felt... not _inadequate_ , but always behind. He’d been so effortlessly dazzling that it had felt unfair. Knowing that it _was_ unfair, that he was just naturally vastly more intelligent, was actually helpful.

The upshoot of all this was that she swiftly found herself miles ahead of everyone else, and people began referring to her as ‘that scarily brilliant one from Cambridge’. 

Which she rather liked, if she was honest.

***

One Friday evening when she’d allowed herself to be dragged out on the town by the Polish twins (Przemyslaw had a twin sister it turned out, her name being the far more pronounceable Magdalena), Allison found herself quizzed again.

“But why are you in such a rush? I love studying too, but we’re in Manchester,” Magdalena said, twirling a blue cocktail in her hand and studying the nightlife all around them.

Allison sighed, trying to get her thoughts into order. Her impatience was nagging her every day... But then she had a goal. Had seen the practical applications of what they were doing - it wasn’t theory, it was _real_. And although they might think she was just showing off - well, did it really matter?

“It’s not that I don’t like it here, it’s just - I want to _do_ things with my life. I have a job waiting for me at NASA, and the sooner I can finish my education, the sooner I can go do something useful.”

Magdalena’s eyes widened.

“NASA? Are you serious?”

“I spent a summer there as an intern. I was... Adelaide Brooke’s PA, basically. I helped with Project Pitstop.”

People here tended to know their NASA staff, and she could sense how she instantly went up in their estimation. 

“Kurwa! Adelaide Brooke? But then you _are_ crazy clever...”

Allison smiled, and for once it was genuine. She had a future, and it was _hers_. Adelaide had wanted _her_ , not ‘the Golden Boy’. Had even sent a message recently making sure that Allison was still interested, and on track. 

So yes, she’d see if she could shave time off her MA and maybe start a Doctorate next year. If the rules could bend for Alex, they could bend for her too.

***

After several weeks, she finally told Toby and Troy the truth about the break-up.

It was Toby who, in the middle of a meal (they’d invited her over for tea, still not trusting her to feed herself), looked at her and in his usual unceremonious way said:

“Allison, what happened? I know Alex was... complicated, but you seemed ready to put up with that. So?”

She froze where she sat, then slowly lowered her fork, sitting silently for a long moment before speaking.

“He’s not human.”

She saw Troy getting ready to say something, and forestalled him.

“I don’t mean he’s _inhuman_. I mean... _not human_. Alien. A different species. From a different planet.”

“But he looks perfectly normal,” Toby replied, frowning.

“Yeah, apparently his species predates humanity by millions of years. _We_ look like _them_.” 

They just stared at her mutely, so she pulled her phone out of her bag and brought up the relevant gallery. (She’d named it after the space co-ordinates, and locked it with a password. Anyone who might get hold of her phone would think it was something to do with her studies.)

“Here. This is his planet. And when I say ‘his planet’, I don’t mean his ‘home planet’ where he’s from. I mean _the planet he created_. He doesn’t have a home planet, his species is practically extinct.”

Still looking at her like she had a screw loose they gingerly took the phone from her, jaws gradually dropping as they looked through the images... the golden sky, the red grass, the forests, the spaceship, his ‘house’... 

Eventually Toby looked up, studying her with wonder.

“Allison, this is... incredible.”

“It is, isn’t it?” she said softly, recalling far too well how swept away she’d been. Golden wonder all around her, like a fairy tale...

“So why- I don’t understand.”

She lowered her eyes, intently studying her unfinished meal. She didn’t feel hungry anymore.

“It’s complicated. But... He can do anything. _Anything_. For example he’s also highly telepathic. Can walk into someone’s head as easily as touching their hand.”

Looking up again Toby seemed confused, but when she turned to Troy she could see him slowly nod, eyes having turned dark.

“He’s got all the power. You did right leaving him.”

The affirmation - reached without having to _explain_ \- left her almost staggering with relief. She didn’t know what had happened to Troy in his past for him to be able to pinpoint the heart of the issue with such precision (and he’d probably be as unwilling to share as she), but she was nonetheless grateful. 

“Thank you,” she said, nearly crying (she’d never been one to burst into tears, now anything could do it), but Troy’s expression didn’t change, and Toby was now watching him warily.

“I don’t understand. If they love each other...”

Troy shook his head.

“That’s what makes it worse.”

At which point Toby became obstinate.

“This is nothing like you and- and- that bastard who took advantage of you.”

“It was pretty much 50-50,” Troy said, still looking at Allison. “We both used love to get what we wanted. He might have been... ‘exploiting’ me, but hell, _I_ was the one who seduced _him_ , and I knew exactly what I was doing - or so I thought back then at least. Love is a terrible thing when it’s used as a weapon, and he used it against me right from the start. Alex understood that - told me so to my face, as a matter of fact. I think - hope - he’s decent enough not to use it against you Allie, but _damn_ it’s a powerful weapon, and he holds all the cards. So yeah, you did right getting out. Trust me, you’ll find someone else. And it won’t be the same, it probably won’t be that... intense. But it might just be so much better than you ever imagined.”

He took Toby’s hand, a look of pure adoration on his face, and Allison slowly nodded. 

It was a greater insight into Troy than she’d ever expected, and although he was obviously projecting, she took on board what he said.

“I will bear that in mind,” she said, and then couldn’t help smiling, because the two of them were adorable, and Troy grinned back:

“Damn straight. And as your future-brother-in-law, I want you to be as happy as me.”

She blinked, the words instantly sweeping away the previous topic.

“Future- wait! you’re _engaged_?”

An odd sort of pause followed, during which her brother and Troy looked at each other, having some sort of silent conversation. Eventually Troy answered.

“Well, we are according to Andrew.”

“We can’t remember it,” Toby continued. “We were way too drunk. Which was Troy’s fault by the way.”

“Hey, I resent that. OK, so I found the quiz, but it was _Andrew’s_ idea to turn it into a drinking game!”

Toby bit his lip, eyes dancing.

“I don’t think he realised just how-”

Shooting Allison a sudden glance, he cut the sentence short.

“Sorry, I don’t think you want to know.”

Troy rolled his eyes.

“It was about sex. And because I’ve done everything under the sun, pretty much, and very successfully made your lovely brother happy in ways that would make you blush, we got very, very, _very_ drunk, and now Andrew is claiming that one of us proposed - he won’t say who - and keeps teasing us about wedding bells.”

Her appetite having miraculously recovered, she ate another forkful, then asked:

“Who’s Andrew?”

Apparently the mischievous ‘Andrew’ was the conductor of the small amateur orchestra Toby was part of, and soon enough the talk spun out along lines of everyday issues, and Allison could try to relax. The mere fact of not carrying the secret all on her own helping a lot.

However, a few days later she learned more about Troy’s past than she had ever wanted.

***

It was Saturday and they’d gone into the centre of town to do some shopping, just the two of them. (Toby wasn’t one for shops - the only places he enjoyed being the farmer’s market and computer stores.)

Walking down a high street, laughing because Troy was unable to go _anywhere_ without commenting on everyone they saw, complete with on-the-spot improvisations and throwaway bitchy comments, he suddenly stopped in his tracks, face turning completely white, before dragging her into a narrow side-street so quickly that she nearly dropped her bags.

“Troy?” she asked, “what is it?”

“Sh!” he said, eyes wide, and she followed his line of sight, seeing a thuggish youth walk past, oblivious to anything, earphones in his ears and a cigarette in his hand.

He passed by the ginnel without ever looking up, and she turned back to Troy, a hundred questions on her lips, before realising that he’d sunk down to a sitting position, knees drawn up protectively, and looking so shell-shocked that she wondered if this was how she’d looked to Matt...

“Troy?” she asked gently, setting her bags aside and crouching down by him, but he didn’t seem to notice her. Even so he spoke, voice detached and not sounding like himself at all.

“I... never thought I’d see him _here_. His territory is miles away...”

Carefully laying a hand on his, she tried to work out what had happened.

“Is this the guy you were in love with?”

The words seemed to shake him out of his stasis. 

“ _No_. No no no. I was in love with my teacher, so very, very long ago... _That_ \- that was the guy who-”

He swallowed, then abruptly buried his head in his hands for a long moment, before letting them fall down again helplessly.

“It was some months after I arrived here. I was behind on the rent. No, it wasn’t _rent_ , I just happened to be staying in this house, I can’t even remember how, I kept moving from place to place, but this guy wanted money... He was bad news I knew, there were tons of drugs everywhere, but I never thought- I mean, it was only temporary, I just needed somewhere to crash- Anyway I’d been unable to get any work for a while, so I didn’t have any money. I said I’d leave, that I’d pay him as soon as I could, but he- He decided that if I didn’t have any cash there were other ways I could pay. After all, I’d been sleeping with half of Manchester already, I shouldn’t mind him and his friends having some fun also...”

Allison remembered Toby’s furious protectiveness, and she’d guessed at something like this. But having it confirmed was something else entirely.

“There were about ten of them,” Troy continued, voice flat and emotionless. “I don’t think they expected me to fight back... But I suppose being bullied my whole childhood finally paid off, I’m used to being ganged up on. And I got lucky - no one was guarding the door. So I ran. I had nothing - not my phone, not my wallet, not my passport - _nothing_. I could hear them laugh, because they knew I had nowhere to go. And when they saw me again they’d make me pay...”

He shivered, his freckles standing out darkly against the whiteness of his face. She didn’t know what to say, although she remembered Toby telling her his part of the tale.

“If I hadn’t by chance still had your brother’s number in my pocket- If he hadn’t taken me in...” 

Troy swallowed again, and instinctively she moved forward and just held him as tightly as she could. She couldn’t, and wouldn’t, try to imagine what might have happened. And to think she’d disliked him so much when they first met... 

When he seemed to have recovered she gently let go, and he looked up at her, almost childlike.

“But what if they find me? What if they come after me? Toby thinks I’m worried for myself, but that’s not it - what if they hurt _him_? I never - I never thought I’d have someone like him, that I could be _happy_... And I’m so scared it’ll all be taken away.”

“Troy-” she began, but he shook his head, the vulnerable look abruptly replaced by scathing cynicism.

“I know what you’re going to say. I’m _not_ going to the police. For starters, what would I say? ‘Oh by the way I was nearly gang-raped two years ago, please find them all and lock them up forever so I don’t have to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life.’ Yeah, that’ll work.” 

He scoffed. 

“Even if I thought they’d give a fuck about some random gay kid who got himself into a stupid fix, it’s not like they could _do_ anything...”

Allison sat back on her heels, the answer coming to her so swiftly that she almost worried. It would appear that she couldn’t cut the ties with her previous life as completely as she’d imagined.

“You need Jack,” she said.

Troy tilted his head, and she explained.

“Jack is Torchwood. I know what you’re going to say, those thugs aren’t aliens, but Torchwood often branches out. And they’re... _not_ the police. They can basically do what they want - and if that means tracking down some nasty people who deserve what’s coming to them, then I suspect they’ll be more than happy to. I _swear_ to you, I’ll make sure you and Toby will be able to sleep soundly for the rest of your lives.”

She stood up, held out her hand.

“I’ll be seeing Jack at graduation, I’ll ask him then. You’re coming, right? You’ll have to tell him everything, but don’t worry - he’s incapable of being shocked.”

Troy took her hand, yet looked at her as if he suspected witch craft.

She smiled back, but had to admit some hard truths to herself... 

One, she had so far been incredibly self-absorbed in her whole outlook, easily ignoring the fact that other people had come through far, _far_ worse than she had; and Two... Apparently she was just as willing as Alex to manipulate and use dubious methods for her own benefit if she saw so fit. 

And now graduation was looming... 

What would he say? And how would she feel, seeing him again? How had _he_ been coping? Where did they go from here?

She’d not heard a word, as if he’d vanished from the planet itself (which he probably had). Maybe he’d just buried himself in work like her? He'd said something about singing fish...


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've ever wondered what Alex's friends look like, then I have managed to hunt down models on the internet: [Jamie](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/elisi/4713981/318269/318269_original.jpg) & [Josh](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/elisi/4713981/267418/267418_original.jpg).

He was woken by a persistent knocking on his door.

The building had been designed to amplify certain noises - such as someone knocking on the door - and the Seeker sat up in his bed, confused.

He was the only person on the whole planet, so who was knocking?

Well Jack had been looking after him for the past week, but he never knocked. And the Seeker couldn’t sense him.

Walking through the house on bare feet, trying to banish the dreams that still clung to him (hopeless, hopeful dreams, he wished he knew how to banish them), he ended up at the door, studying it. Eventually he pulled it open, and was greeted with what was pretty close to the last sight he’d expected.

“Hello Alex,” Josh said, looking even more stunning than usual in a loose white shirt combined with black trousers and tall boots.

Next to him Jamie was smiling enigmatically, wearing something golden and flowing that shifted in the gentle breeze, emphasising hir androgynous outline. 

“Hello...” he replied, too stunned to say much, as he slowly took in the small mountain of luggage behind them.

“What... What are you doing here?”

“We’re on our honeymoon,” Josh replied, eyes dancing, “but Jack is getting tired of ferrying us around. So we thought you could be our chauffeur round the wonders of the universe.”

The Seeker slowly shook his head.

“But surely the Doctor will be happy to take you?”

Josh looked mildly offended.

“Because I really want to spend some of the most magical weeks of our lives running down dirty corridors foiling alien invasions.”

“And I can’t run in these shoes,” Jamie added.

Looking at the shoes in question, the Seeker thought that ‘shoe’ wasn’t really the correct word. They appeared to be some kind of sandals, fashioned from golden ribbons, with a wedge heel. Mostly they seemed horribly impractical, but then shoes weren’t his thing. He had several pairs of trainers (which were comfortable) and a single pair of patent leather shoes for ‘best’ that he wore when forced. 

“Besides,” Josh added, reaching out and laying a hand on his shoulder, eyes suddenly serious. “Jack said we were the answer to your question.”

Staring at his friend for the longest time, the Seeker still couldn’t get his head around what was happening.

“What question?”

Josh shrugged.

“I don’t know, he didn’t say. Don’t shoot the messenger, OK?”

Jamie had been looking up at the sky, craning hir neck to see beyond the brim of hir hat.

“The sky really is burnt orange... Can we see _your_ planet first Alex? Jack said something about silver trees...”

“I - I suppose,” he replied, too thrown to put up a fight. It would certainly be a distraction. And if Jack had sent them...

“Listen, I just need to get some breakfast first. Come in, if you want.”

“What about our suitcases?” Jamie said, and he smiled.

“There’s no one else here. But I’ll get one of the bots to move everything onto my ship. I’m presuming it’s the outfits you can’t live without.”

Grinning, Josh walked past him in to the house. 

“Don’t tell me, I think I remember the way...”

Company.

Company that had seen him at his worst, knew exactly what he was, and couldn’t be shocked.

Maybe this was a good idea after all?

It certainly couldn’t make him gloomier than he already was.

***

The following weeks were full of more exquisite beauty and exceptional events than his entire life up to that point.

It helped that he already had a ‘List of Extraordinary Places’ all worked out. He’d carefully edited it over the past three years, on the off-chance that Allison would stay with him, or at least agree to let him show her the marvels of the universe.

There was an undeniable bitterness in using it for people other than the intended recipient, but he didn’t have the mental capacity to come up with a whole new list. Especially since it wasn’t just a case of picking suitable places, he needed to make sure they arrived at an auspicious time with no invasions or natural disasters looming, and generally tried his best to check up on all available data. From which point in space could they get the best view of a super nova? At which point in Darillium’s history would the towers not be overrun with tourists? 

It kept him busy, and stopped him from thinking about Allison for whole minutes at a time. Stopped him from endlessly turning everything over in his head again and again and again.

Her reaction had been such that it had taken him time to even begin to process it. He’d been prepared for anger - for disbelief, for resentment, for anything under the suns.

But not for fear.

Not for her to look at him the way people looked at his father, when they understood what he was.

Pure, naked, bone deep, primal terror... She’d kept it under control, but it had radiated so clearly that he’d barely been able to move.

And he didn’t know what to do. 

Even though he had never fooled himself into thinking that he had much of a chance to keep her, he’d had an endless litany of ideas for how to make it work. All useless, now.

(How could he prove that he’d never go evil? It was a prospect that frightened him too, after all.)

So he looked after his beautiful friends - if he couldn’t be happy, he could at least make sure that others had more than their share...

***

One day he took them to _Woman Wept_ , walking underneath frozen waves a hundred feet tall - a frozen storm that reached to the horizon, breathtaking and awe-inspiring.

Josh and Jamie walked along, hand in hand, eyes wide with wonder, as the Seeker quietly fell behind. 

Tilting his head he studied a frozen wave; tapped it experimentally.

Usually he’d be intrigued, curious to understand how had it happened - how to make it happen - how to prevent it.

Now, all he could think was: _‘This is me.’_

He was frozen, the loss and grief paralysing him, making him unsure if and when he’d ever thaw. 

Looking up, he saw his friends, smiling and chatting, and wondered how Jack had known.

He might be frozen, but their happiness was like twin suns that he could orbit - their warmth soaking him, just enough to keep going. He was living off them as surely as the Doctor lived off his Companions, but they didn’t seem to mind. 

Belatedly he realised that they had stopped and were waiting for him, studying him with keen eyes. 

“She’ll come round, Alex,” Josh said, and he could feel his hearts sink. He’d thought they’d let the planet’s name pass, but obviously not. He has far too transparent at the moment...

Slowly he shook his head. It was sweet of Josh to attempt to give him hope - he didn’t understand how it only made it worse.

“You can’t know that.”

A gentle smile, and really Josh was so gorgeous it should be criminal.

 _“I’ve_ come round, and I had a pretty rough introduction.”

The Seeker tried not to sigh.

“True. But it’s taken you five years - and you’re married to someone else. Plus, we were only friends. It’s not quite the same.”

At which point Josh’s stubborn, argumentative side showed up, as it always did.

“But don’t you love her?”

“Of _course_ I love her. What’s that got to do with anything?”

Josh looked frustrated.

“If _you_ love _her_ , and _she_ loves _you_ -”

The Seeker smiled bitterly. He’d acquired a whole line in bitter smiles by now...

“Ah. You see, there’s the snag. She loves _Alex_. Me she’s mostly terrified of.”

Josh frowned, tilting his head.

“I don’t think it’s healthy to refer to yourself in the third person.”

“Now you know how she feels.”

“But-”

“Josh please, I can’t do this...”

He shot Jamie a pleading look, and Jamie readily took his cue. Wonderful Jamie who understood his pain, and would hopefully be able to explain it to Josh...

Later that evening when he’d deposited his beautiful charges at a fantastical restaurant, with a view overlooking migrating Isolis, he pondered how things had changed from just a few years ago...

He’d had two friends since childhood - Matt, who had taken the aliens and all the revelations more or less in his stride, and Josh who had balked; Josh who had for the next many years chafed against everything he, the Seeker, was and stood for.

Yet it was Matt who had slipped out of his grasp - Matt who had quietly and slowly distanced himself. The Seeker had sent him to look after Allison, and he was sure he had - Matt was the very byword for stability. But he didn’t want the Seeker’s world. 

It was Josh who was now with him, married to an otherworldly creature, stepping out into the universe with bright eyes, accepting him more completely than he’d ever thought possible. Although... Thanks to Jack, Josh had been drawn into his world to a much greater degree from a much younger age. Maybe that’s why Josh had reacted so badly? It had been more personal, and thus more difficult to accept. 

They gave him hope though, stupid as it was. Their entwined hands spoke not just of physical intimacy, but of a shared mind. And if Josh could trust Jamie so completely - then maybe, maybe, _maybe_ Allison would some day trust him too?

He sighed, burying head in his hands.

He had to _stop_ doing this. He’d end up driving himself insane...

***

They spent weeks travelling. Saw schools of starwhales, and the birth of a galaxy. Walked amongst the Forest of Cheem on the first day of spring, and stood on a moon made of diamonds. Visited gravity defying palaces made of pearl, and cities under the sea populated by merpeople shimmering like coral.

The Seeker began to wonder just how much beauty he could cope with considering his broken hearts... What had initially been a balm was beginning to be a burden. So much happiness and wonder, just out of his reach. 

But then Josh and Jamie had lives to get back to, and all good things had to come to an end.

***

Their last stop was Arcadia.

The Seeker checked them into the very best hotel, the honeymoon suite a glass domed penthouse with a view so breathtaking many newly weds were said to never even get undressed. And tonight there was going to be a particularly extraordinary meteor shower lighting up the sky... As a finale to their whirlwind tour of the wonders of the universe it’d do very nicely indeed.

The penthouse was on two levels - below were sitting rooms and bathrooms and all the practical things anyone could want, and above was just a huge circular platform covered by a glass-membrane dome. There was a balcony all the way around, but most people stayed on the big round bed that took up most of the floor. 

Josh and Jamie loved it of course. After having run back and forth exhausting the incredible view they eventually fell on the bed, looking up at the darkening sky and admiring the heavens.

“Enjoy,” he said, about to step onto the transmat that would take him to the lobby far below, when Josh sat up.

“Hey - don’t leave already.”

“I think you probably want to be alone...” he replied (he couldn’t count the number of times he’d nearly - and not-so-nearly - walked in on them, and was in no hurry to watch the prelude), but Josh waved him over.

“Don’t be silly. Come. Sit down.”

Sighing, the Seeker obediently walked across to the bed, settling himself on the edge, figuring that they probably wanted to say thank you, or something similar. Or thought that he would like to share the view of the meteor shower, which was very kind.

What happened next took him completely by surprise.

Josh leaned forward, put a hand on his leg.

“Alex... We’ve been watching you, and you’re not doing well. You need someone. We can be that someone if you will let us.”

Josh was studying him with great seriousness, and Jamie, behind him, laid a hand on the Seeker’s shoulder as sie leaned hir head against his.

 _‘We could sing you sleep and soothe your pain’_ sie said, and (feeling supremely slow) the Seeker realised that they were actually coming onto him. No one had ever tried to seduce him before, and - despite everything - he felt a thrill at the sensation.

“Oh,” he said, looking at Josh with sudden understanding, and Josh leaned in.

“We wasted so much time..." Josh continued, voice low. "We could make up for that now.”

(The words brought back Josh talking to him in the student union bar, back in spring - ‘I never knew it was option!’ he’d said back then. He’d clearly been giving it some thought since.)

“This is not the honeymoon I was expecting to give you,” the Seeker eventually said, cautious. He didn’t want to upset his friends...

In response Josh’s eyes seemed to glow, as his hand caressed the Seeker’s cheek, his finger brushing his lips, and the Seeker could feel his breath catch. 

(Stars it was tempting... Letting himself go, allow pleasure to wash everything away, even if it was just for a single night - and at that moment he suddenly understood Jack’s message... _‘What drink/drug/species would you recommend as the fastest (preferably non-lethal, but I’m not fussy) route to oblivion?’_ he had asked. This was clearly Jack’s response...) 

And Josh (beautiful, gorgeous Josh) was looking at him with a look he couldn’t begin to quantify. Something different from lust or benevolence.

“We’ve been talking, Jamie and I. We wanted something... out of this world, something _extraordinary_ for our honeymoon. But why confine the wonders of the universe only to the daytime? Why not have our very own wonder, right here in our arms?”

Between one beat of his hearts and the next, a weight seemed to settle in the Seeker’s chest.

“I’m a wonder of the universe?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper, and the response came from Jamie as sie tightened hir hold.

_‘You are more than that. You are golden eternity, singular, unlike anything in the world. Josh should build you temples.’_

The weight in his chest was now making it hard to breathe, and his eyes were burning. 

“I don’t-” he began, but couldn’t continue as everything suddenly came unstuck.

> _Earth was burning and breaking apart and never his; Allison was stepping away from his touch with fear in her eyes; and his friends-_

The tears were hot and seemingly never ending. He could feel his whole body giving itself over to grief, yet was unable to help it. It was a lifetime’s worth of heartbreak and loss and sorrow - everything he had known to be true since he looked in the Schism; yet there was a difference between knowing what would be, and going through it.

Gentle hands and gentler mental touches tried to soothe as best they could, but if he’d been able to speak he would have told that although it was appreciated there was nothing to be done. He needed this catharsis. He’d been on a breaking point for so long, and this was clearly the last straw - the frozen shell he’d been trapped in cracking open in one perfect break.

***

Finally, spent and exhausted, he made his way down to the bathroom, Josh and Jamie conscientiously making sure he was OK to go by himself.

Cold water calmed the effects of the crying, and he studied himself in the mirror for a long, long moment. 

Had it only been a few weeks since the great break?

It felt so much longer. 

His face was exactly as it had always been, yet it was if he’d never seen it before. 

He had found himself when he was only eight, but his old self - the shadow-self, the human lie that carried his face - had still been there; the mask a far more integral part of him than even he had suspected. And tearing it off had been an experience that had unsettled him far more than he had anticipated.

What he’d not known was that he wouldn’t be able to go back. That once the mask was off, it’d be lost for good.

But what was done, was done. He could only be what he was. Maybe it was for the best - the compromise had torn him in half for so long that he’d almost lost himself.

“Goodbye Alex,” he eventually said, voice soft and regretful. 

Then he slowly removed the pendant from around his neck. The perception filter had been inactive since he had shown Allison, but even the teleport felt obsolete.

He would never hide or run again.

Taking a deep breath, he refocussed on the present.

His friends. Probably still waiting, wondering, unsure.

His... _friends_. Was that even what they were, now? He had always known that with every truth revealed he’d lose them a little more, but the shock of the final loss had been far worse than he’d anticipated. But then he’d been like the Doctor these past few weeks, the enabler of adventures far outside anything ordinary - their very own miracle maker. He should have seen it coming... The flip side to Allison. 

Truly the world of humans was no longer his in any way. The almost physical reality of the loss still unbalanced him, but the worst seemed to be over. He just needed time to adjust, to absorb everything, get used to being just himself.

When he returned to the penthouse the other two silently made room for him on the bed. Lying down alongside them, grateful for the silence, he looked up and was suddenly aware of the meteor shower, which he had completely forgotten about. It was spellbinding in its exquisite beauty, and he could feel peace settling for the first time in weeks - as well as something like resolve. 

He could only be what he was; trying to pretend otherwise had only brought him (and everyone around him) pain... 

Turning to Josh, he smiled gently.

“I’ll be your wonder.”

As he leaned in to capture his friend’s lips - Jamie’s mind dancing along in elation - he had no idea how true his words would become.

***

_Later._  
The boy sat on the balcony, predawn light illuminating the sky in pale shades of colours defying description.

A doomed world; a world his uncle would fail to save, the memory of which would haunt him forever more.

But the boy didn’t see the beauty on display, nor remembered the tragedy to come - except as a backdrop to the events that were unfolding in his own life.

He’d only meant to be kind - to give his friends something wondrous. 

Had wanted to do it _right_ ; not unplanned and uncontrolled like with Allison... Josh knew what he was, Jamie had seen it, so he had wanted to make sure his friends had a night they’d never forget. 

As a thank you; as a gift. 

He had not known- had not anticipated- not thought- not realised...

_(The new-old memory flickered in his mind, his father’s cunning, calculating eyes watching him as if he could see through to his very soul.)_

He had never been so scared. 

_(Stars above, what else was hidden in his mind without his knowledge?)_

All he could see was Josh’s face, caught in bliss and rapture, looking at him as if for the first time, breathless, his name on his lips like a prayer.

_‘Seeker...’_

It had been like worship, a complete surrender... 

(Jamie following, or leading the way, he wasn’t sure, they were so entwined in every way that he hadn’t been able to tell them apart.)

He hadn’t known he could do that. Had only thought it possible as a violation, as something forced - not something _given_ freely.

Except that wasn’t really true...

They just hadn’t known what they’d been offering. And he hadn’t known that he was taking it.

Hadn’t known he _could._

Hadn’t even realised that that was what he was doing...

(Allie, he thought. This is why she left. It wasn’t what he could become. It’s what he _already was_. Her visceral horror at having her mind invaded unexpectedly given new context.)

Because in the middle of all this - a new memory. A memory from long ago, suddenly asserting itself, unbidden, having been hidden for so very long... 

He didn’t want it. It revolted him; made him queasy. But he couldn’t escape it. And he needed to _understand_ what the hell he had done.

Reluctantly he played it out in his mind properly, delving in deep and reliving it, trying to understand what had actually happened - then and now.

> _He had been little. Like really small. Two, maybe three. He’d had Igglepiggle, and tried to measure his past self against the stuffed toy, size-wise. Two, then._
> 
> _He’d woken in the night, for some reason. Possibly TARDIS engines fading away. Whatever it had been, he’d sensed his father, and happily crept out of bed, Igglepiggle in his arms. They never knew exactly when dad would be coming, but it was roughly once a month and he wanted to greet him straight away._
> 
> _Following his senses he’d tiptoed along the landing before silently pushing his parents’ bedroom door open._
> 
> _His older self paused, trying to reconstruct what must have happened. His father had returned. His mother must have woken too, and been halfway across the bedroom floor by the time Dad reached the bedroom door._
> 
> _At which point Dad had intercepted her, pinning her to the wall... And his past self had entered._
> 
> _Mum had been against the wall, wearing something shiny and silky, Dad holding her by the upper arms, hard enough to bruise even though Mum never ever did anything she shouldn’t. Dad had been wearing a suit, all **Saxon** and cool and demanding. _
> 
> _But the thing that stood out - the thing that chilled him even now, the thing that had made him freeze on the spot back then - had been the look on his mother’s face._
> 
> _She hadn’t looked like Mum at all._
> 
> _She’d looked... He couldn’t even describe it now. Like the people had, back when he was a tiny, tiny baby on the Valiant. Enchanted. Literally. Caught in a web; ensnared, worshipful._
> 
> _And she’d whispered Dad’s name like it wasn’t a name at all._
> 
> _‘Master...’_
> 
> _He’d not understood any of it then, but reconstructing it now it made sense, in the way things with his father generally did - his mother’s complete submission, his father’s need for control and dominance._
> 
> _Because that had been the other thing stopping him. The naked **hunger** he’d seen on his father’s face, like Dad could have physically eaten or devoured her. The same look he’d had in his eyes when he’d killed Jack. A primal need so forceful it could push anything and everything else out of the way... _
> 
> _And his father was now a prisoner, unable to assert himself - except when it came to his mother. So she had to make up for the loss of a world. The Seeker felt sick. He knew his parents did not exactly have a healthy relationship, but this..._
> 
> _He must have made a noise of some kind, his parents abruptly noticing his presence and the intensity of the scene shattering as they turned to him._
> 
> _Mum had tried to smile, untangling herself from Dad’s grip, reassuring, calming, just Mum once again._
> 
> _(He must have looked terrified he thought. Small and silent and scared. Mum obviously - being human - wanted to comfort him. But Dad... Dad saw it as weakness.)_
> 
> _‘Alexander darling,’ Mum had said. ‘Mum and Dad were just playing a little game. Grown-ups do that sometimes. It’s nothing to worry about, OK?’_
> 
> _He’d nodded, but Dad had adjusted his cuff links and told her to move, crouching down in front of him._
> 
> _‘Nice try Lucy, but he’s not that stupid - you forget what he’s capable of. Great One, you know you are special, don’t you? That you are so much **more** than all the little humans in this world, right?’_
> 
> _He’d nodded again, clutching Igglepiggle more tightly._
> 
> _‘Good,’ Dad had continued, his cunning, calculating eyes watching him as if he could see through to his very soul. ‘And I’m sure you remember how... **biddable** everyone was, back when Daddy ruled the world. Because that’s how it’s **supposed** to be. We are **Time Lords** , born to rule over the lesser - like how humans rule over the animals, how the clever people rule over the stupid. And your mother understands this...’_
> 
> _A hesitation, before he continued - the child not grasping the significance of the odd shading to the next words; the older boy understanding far too well and wishing he didn’t._
> 
> _‘So she is **obedient**. In **every** way.’_
> 
> _He’d bitten his lip, remembering what the Doctor had told him about how he (the Doctor) couldn’t be around all the time because he was looking after - and saving - people who couldn’t look after themselves. And kings both ruled **and** looked after people. It was sort of the same thing. And if he was a prince, like Daddy said, and he’d grow up to be a king, maybe, then he’d have to do that too..._
> 
> _That was as far as his thoughts had laboriously led him (his older self recalled the fairy tale illustrations he’d used when picturing the future and cursed his father all over again - the subtlety of the machinations and manipulation were breathtakingly masterful), when Mum had cut in._
> 
> _‘Harry, he’s too small. He **shouldn’t** have seen that...’_
> 
> _Dad had pursed his lips, eyes narrowing as he mulled over the situation._
> 
> _‘You may be right. Well, son, it shall have to be an Easter Egg, for some future day when you discover for yourself just how **biddable** people are, with the right kind of mental pressure.’_
> 
> _A sly smile, and then there had been cool fingertips to his temples and everything had gone black._

And here he was. Josh’s face overlaying his mother’s; the same reverence, the same surrender.

Worst of all part of him wanted it. Wanted to... _keep_ them. All that beauty and delight at his fingertips, willing and eager to please. If he could not have love, then he could have every other bliss... 

(No one would even question it. Heck, the two of them had even instigated it in the first place, and would never suspect a thing...)

Except, of course, that the whole thing made him feel sick. He didn’t want puppets, he wanted his friends. And if he couldn’t have love, then replacing it with a teflon copy wasn’t the answer. 

Besides he was scared. Turning into his father would be so easy he was almost physically shaking.

He swallowed. His insides were in turmoil... If he’d been like _Woman Wept_ , everything had now abruptly been reversed. It felt like a storm inside, and he didn’t know where to turn to for handhold...

Well... He _did_ know. Except it would require an extraordinary amount of humility, which didn’t sit well with him at all. (This was always their problem - _pride_. Pride, pride, pride. No wonder it was the cardinal sin. Humans had an uncanny knack for blundering across basic truths.)

He would have to go to the Doctor. Have to say ‘I don’t know what I did, _help_ me. Please - I need you to fix my friends, because I broke them somehow.’

It would amount to infinite layers of discomfort and embarrassment. 

The Doctor, whose advice on sex had essentially boiled down to ‘Don’t even think about it until you’re a hundred.’

(In the circumstances, he should probably not have retorted with ‘Because you and Dad _totally_ waited that long! _Please_. Frolicking about in red meadows for days on end, don’t expect me to believe you never did something you shouldn’t!’ Not his finest hour. Well, not his most tactful at any rate... The Doctor had never hit him, ever, but had at that point looked ready to give him a sound smack.)

He smiled joylessly. Considering the issue now, the best preventative measure he could imagine would unquestionably have been a warning that if he wasn’t very, very, very careful his father’s face - followed by a horrifically disturbing and traumatising memory - would be unlocked and show up in the middle of love making. _That_ would have made him careful.

Heck, he might never have had sex at all.

But no, the Doctor had just found the whole thing hideously embarrassing, being fifty shades of impossibly awkward and reticent - unlike Jack who’d been forthcoming and helpful. Except Jack couldn’t help him now.

Because _he didn’t know what he’d done._

Maybe that’s what the Doctor had meant? That he didn’t have sufficient training and understanding yet. Maybe he and Dad had done something equally stupid and dangerous and that’s why he’d warned him off trying anything.

But why oh why hadn’t he just _said_ so? 

\- Before he’d accidentally done something to his girlfriend that had terrified her.

\- Before he’d accidentally done something to his friends that terrified _him_.

He was the Seeker, it was his very _nature_ to seek things out! What had the Doctor expected him to do? Sit around like a good little boy - look, don’t touch? At _university_. On _Earth_. Surrounded by beautiful humans at the peak of their sensuality and willingness to experiment? And unaware of his potential...

Could there be a middle way? Something between the Doctor’s careful distance from his companions, and his father’s dominance.

Without bricking up walls between who he was. Again. 

He could feel tears burning in his eyes once more, irrationally wishing that he had the stuffed toys of his childhood with him. He needed to hug something he couldn’t hurt.

 _‘Why isn’t anyone looking after me?’_ he wondered miserably, _‘There should be someone stopping me from doing stuff like this.’_

The answer was immediate: _‘Because I won’t let them. Because I lie and cheat. Because I’m an expert at projecting an image of maturity.’_

He stopped, examining this.

He was an expert because that’s what he’d been brought up to be. They’d taught him to _lie_ above all else. Never let the mask slip, never let on what you are. Be _in control_. Always.

From infancy.

And he’d become exactly what they wanted, what they’d trained him to be - and more. They’d taught him to lie, and lie he had done. 

But it ended now.

( _‘Take what you’ve discovered, project it forward, learn from it, **use** it. Don’t be caught out again.’ _ The question of the hour being: But _how?_ This was not as simple as constructing a teleport...)

He’d thought that once he was free from Cambridge he’d go back to his regular studies - learning everything from the tiniest particle of an atom to the greatest of galaxies. Now he realised that first and foremost he needed to focus on _what he was_. Explore his mind, all the things he was capable of - and develop proper control, proper understanding. Not simply going with his natural instincts, because clearly they were shite. Just because he was gifted didn’t mean that he could intuitively work out what the correct thing was. ( _Pazithi Gallifreya_ , it was so obvious in hindsight. He felt like a monumental fool, and he didn’t like it. But... better a fool with his hearts in the right place, than an arrogant fool who couldn’t admit the folly of his ways. _That_ lesson was one that had sunk in.)

It was a shame that the only other Time Lords around weren’t very good at this. The Doctor and the Redjay were impulsive and emotional, and although they’d know the theory, the actual _teaching_ might be a problem... Well. Mentally they were probably perfectly trained - he couldn’t look inside their heads after all, so he shouldn't assume too much - but that training would have taken place a thousand years earlier, and be second nature now. Maybe their TARDISes might have some records that could help? His father was of course _very_ controlled, but he really didn’t want to avail himself of that particular resource.

Maybe he could search out mystics - teachers like Aang had in Avatar. Time Lords weren’t the only telepathic species out there, there had to be trusted and proven techniques...

He sighed. It was exhausting having to raise himself... But he never wanted to hurt anyone ever again, if he could help it.

***

They found him on the balcony - curled up, silent and watchful, although his eyes were not on the horizon.

“Seeker?” Josh asked, kneeling down by the round chair. 

“Sorry,” their Time Lord replied after a moment, his face pale and unlike himself. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Seeker,” Josh said again, taking his hand. “You needed to let it all out.”

The Seeker shook his head, still looking spooked - as if he’d seen a ghost. A million miles from the wonderous creature who’d shared their bed last night. 

“That’s not it,” he said, avoiding their eyes.

“Then what is it?” Jamie asked, studying him with a frown as sie pulled a silk kimono around her.

He swallowed, looking... _guilty_. Yes that was it. _Why_ was the question.

Studying Josh, he pressed his lips together before answering.

“Since when have you called me ‘Seeker’?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, continuing immediately, eyes suddenly finding Josh’s with near-unnerving intensity.

“Since last night. You _never_ call me Seeker. You think it’s a stupid name.”

“But I didn’t understand,” he protested. “Didn’t know what you are...”

“And now you do,” the Seeker said.

Josh smiled.

“Yes. Oh yes.”

And again he was rendered speechless at what the night had brought. Of course Jamie had tried to explain, but it wasn’t the same - and even Jamie had only had a snippet before. 

His - their - world would never be the same... ‘A wonder of the universe’ they’d called him. They’d had no idea. He was so much _more_...

Reaching out, the Seeker gently cupped his face, and Josh could feel his mental touch in his mind, featherlight and tender.

“Would you stay with me?” the Seeker suddenly asked, his face caught in an undefinable expression, and Josh could only marvel at the ridiculousness of the question.

“Of _course_ we would!” 

He turned to catch Jamie’s eyes, and saw his beloved smile in perfect harmony.

“Forever?” the Seeker asked, biting his lip.

“Yes.”

Abruptly letting his hands fall, the Seeker stood up and walked away, stopping in the doorway to study them, face like a mask.

“I’m going to take you home now.”

Josh stood up, Jamie joining him and taking his hand, as they watched their Time Lord, wondering what had happened.

“Did we do something wrong?” Jamie finally asked, and the Seeker once more looked as if he was going to burst into tears.

The next second he was hugging them, holding them so close they could barely breathe.

“ _No_. No, _never_. I don’t know how I’d have coped without you, and truly I can never thank you enough! Please, don't ever think _you_ did something wrong, you were too wonderful for words. It was _me_ that screwed up. And I can’t- I can't _do_ this anymore. I need to sort myself out, learn how to stop _using_ people.”

He let go, studying them with a wobbly smile.

“Besides - I’ve got to write a speech for graduation.”


	29. Chapter 29

In the end Allison’s worries about seeing Alex again were overshadowed by worrying about her hair.

Her entire family told her she was being stupid and paranoid, but she couldn’t help it.

The graduation dress code was ridiculously strict (down to the thickness of tights), and included hair colour, which couldn’t deviate too obviously from natural... And her highlights were very obviously not natural.

What if they wouldn’t let her graduate?

It wasn’t until she was seated in Senate-House that she finally began to relax, figuring that she’d have been stopped before this if there were any problems. Of course ‘relaxing’ was relative. She was surrounded by her former fellow students, all eager to catch up - especially on the news that she and Alex had broken up. 

Vainly she tried to field all the questions, wondering where the boy in question could be (it didn’t seem fair that she should field all the questions by herself, and besides it gave her an odd feeling of deja vu), before looking at the programme and realising that - of course - he’d be seated with the officials, what with receiving a Doctorate and all. Plus, apparently he was giving a speech? 

She was saved from further probing by the announcement that the Vice-Chancellor's procession was about to enter, and they all stood, the momentousness of the situation sinking in. It was old and wonderful and comfortingly familiar (a world away from the shiny glass and metal of Manchester) - and then she saw him in the procession.

He was wearing a scarlet gown, with swathes of pale pink, and one of the funny floppy Doctorate bonnets on his head. Walking next to him was Professor Trinder and they appeared to be deep in conversation, taking no notice of their surroundings.

She’d wondered how she would feel. They’d not exactly parted on good terms, and she still had so many questions, so many doubts. And he’d not given the slightest indication as to how he felt at all - the radio silence had been complete.

And now... the equilibrium she had worked so hard to find seemed to have dislodged itself in an instant, and every worry and heartache was suddenly hovering just beneath the surface. She took a deep breath; tried to focus. She could do this. It was only one day.

The ceremony kicked off with the Senior Proctor proposing any special Graces relating to individual graduands, to which the Junior Proctor (after waiting for any disagreements which never came - it was like a wedding ceremony after the ‘If anyone knows of any just cause...’) replied ‘Placet’. 

(‘It pleases’ Allison’s programme informed her.)

After which everything was in Latin, and Allison watched Alex receive his doctorate with such fluency that she almost expected him to make pun.

Soon enough they were all queuing up, ready to say their own bit. (She had learned the response off by heart, the odd formality of the situation overshadowing the near-ridiculous reality of being one of four grabbing a single finger and speaking Latin whilst kneeling.)

Eventually came Alex’s speech. As he took the podium, someone in the crowd shouted “Vote Saxon!” and his face clouded over, glowering towards where the offending voice had come from, then said “Non Placet” with such severity that she could see several of the higher-ranking members nodding in approval. (Stopping hecklers with Latin. So _him_ it hurt...)

Then he began speaking, and she found herself both spellbound, yet oddly distant, analysing the whole thing from the outside even as she listened rapturously.

He spoke clearly and fluently, without any notes, easily holding everyone’s attention, and she wondered if it was just him - or whether there was something else at work...

Then she, belatedly, began paying attention to what he was actually saying, and felt herself going both hot and cold. It was a great speech, but she knew that no matter how general his remarks seemed, they were meant for _her_.

(He’s doing it again, she thought, forcing herself not to sink further down in her seat. _He’s doing it again_. It was beautifully done, and the speech was excellent, but she couldn’t help feeling self-conscious. He’d highjacked graduation just to give her a message.)

But then the words began to register, and what he was saying made her suddenly swallow against too-tender emotions. It was going to be an emotional roller-coaster of a day - she really should have foreseen this...

“My fellow students. We find ourselves at the beginning of a new adventure. And it’s scary out there, out from the protection of these old buildings, where the history carries with it whispers and memories from centuries. Here, where we studied and partied and worried and took our first steps as near-adults, others have gone before... John Milton, Charles Darwin, David Attenborough, EM Forster, Samuel Pepys... Names that have gone down in history, as ours will hopefully one day also do. Except our work starts _now_. Cambridge shaped us, but it’s the rest of our lives that will determine how we are remembered. And I know you... Have spent three years getting to know you, and I know that no matter where you go, or what you choose-” 

His eyes passed over the crowd, before suddenly fastening on her, his focus absolute and she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

“-you will be _magnificent_.”

She didn’t hear anything after that, barely able to applaud once he’d finished. She was almost crying again - it would've been so much easier if he'd been a bastard.

This... graciousness was almost too much.

***

Afterwards everyone was congregating on the quadrangle outside, and after the obligatory ‘throwing their mortar boards in the air’ snapshots people dispersed, dragged away by family for personal pictures and food and celebrations.

As soon as the could find some time to sneak away, Allison went looking for Alex. She wasn’t sure what she wanted, but his words still lingered and she just... needed to _see_ him. 

She found him busy taking pictures.

“OK, all the Hermits!” he said, and then - as no one moved - added: “Come on, for me. Dad at one end, the Redjay and Jack at the other, and you needn’t even look at each other.”

‘The Hermits’... She recalled the web site, and tried to fit names to the two unfamiliar women. The Redjay had to be the woman next to Jack - she was dressed in a shirt and waist coat with matching trousers, her hair in loose buns, and her freckled face looked oddly strained. The other woman, curly-haired and casually elegant in a jacket and tight skirt paired with vertiginous heels, had to be Doctor Song. She, in stark contrast, seemed to be enjoying herself very much indeed, and gleefully inserted herself between the Doctor and Alex’s father, calling out to Alex:

“Seeker darling, don’t worry about a thing - I’ve brought my handcuffs!”

Alex - Allison found it was impossible to call him ‘Seeker’, even in her mind - laughed at this and snapped a few pictures, before he was interrupted by a familiar voice shouting “Golden Boy!” causing Allison to do a double take - she had not known Adelaide Brooke would be here. 

As Adelaide’s very presence brought with it memories of a far-too-happy summer she looked away, casually letting her eyes dwell on the ‘Hermits’ - and almost froze at what she saw.

Every single of them had turned to look at Adelaide, the exact same look on their faces as had often been on Alex’s - that strange intensity and focus she couldn’t explain. 

Who was Adelaide that she commanded such focus? Or rather... what might she be? Alex had said something, but she couldn’t remember it now. Mostly she felt chilly, and vulnerable. Who were these aliens really? What were they doing on Earth? 

Silently she withdrew, not able to face it after all. Not all of them, at any rate. Aliens. _Alien_ aliens, not familiar ones like Jamie...

As she vainly tried to work out where her family had gone, she felt a gentle touch on her arm - and turned to see _him_.

“Allison,” he said softly, and she could feel her heart constricting. 

“Can I talk to you?” he asked, looking subdued and apologetic and unsure - so unlike his usual confident self that she wondered what could have happened. This was more than just the breakup, she was sure of it.

Before she could reply, however, another voice cut through.

“Sorry son, I’ve had to escape. The Doctor is making a perfect fool of himself over Adelaide Brooke, and I can’t take it any more.”

It was his father, and she could see how his heart sank. (No hearts. Plural.) Trying to smile Alex held out a hand between them.

“Well I guess I'll have to introduce you. Allison - my father, the Master. Dad, this is Allison. The girl who was smart enough to break up with me.”

In response 'The Master' (clearly they _all_ had weird names) merely raised an eyebrow a fraction, casually looking her over as if she was some kind of bargain price item.

“Yes, I seem to recall the Doctor talking about a girl... You must excuse me, I’ve skipped most of the past three years - If you want to throw tantrums, do it on your own time, not mine.”

Alex pressed his lips together, clearly fighting to not take the bait, when there was a shout, and he turned.

“Oh no, Professor Trinder wants me... I promised to-”

He looked from his father to Allison, torn.

“Just... Dad? _Behave_.”

His father didn’t so much as move a muscle, and Alex seemed to be fighting with himself.

“I’ll be right back. Allison, don’t feel obliged to talk to him... As a matter of fact I’d advise you to leave. Seriously - he’s the second most evil man in the universe.”

At his words, his father looked deeply insulted.

“Second? _Second_ most evil? _Excuse_ me?”

Alex shot him a droll look, hiding emotions Allison couldn’t guess at.

“I reckon Davros is worse overall.”

This time his father didn’t hide the sneer.

“Davros is _dead_.”

Alex sighed.

“Fine. Allison - he’s the most evil man in the universe. Darth Vader is fluffy in comparison. _Please_ Allie...”

The protective note in his voice caused her to instinctively balk.

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” she said frostily, and Alex reluctantly left. Also, she was curious despite herself - something which his father quickly made her regret.

“So... Alex’s pet. Figured he’d need something to stave off the boredom.” 

He glanced at her gown, tilting his head in exactly the same way Alex did. 

“Although I suppose you’re clever. For a human, I mean. Enough to keep up a vaguely intelligent conversation at least. Clearly he chose brains over looks. Interesting...”

She had (vaguely) expected something ‘evil’ - nasty mind games and possible death threats. Rudeness and insults were a shock, although something far easier to deal with. Her eyes narrowed and she tried to look as disdainful as him.

“I’m top of my year,” she said through her teeth. “And I wasn’t his ‘pet’, I was his _girlfriend_.”

“Feisty and all self-righteous too. I can see why the Doctor liked you. What was your name again?”

“Allison,” she said coldly. “Allison Whitwell.”

He seemed ready to brush this off with another glib remark, when he suddenly caught himself.

“Allison Whitwell,” he said slowly, musingly, eyes narrowing and going distant, before suddenly fastening on her again with unnerving concentration, as the tiniest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Of _course_.”

If she had suddenly feared Alex because of his potential, her undefinable terror of the father was all about the self-assured experience in his manner. Thanks to Matt she knew a small portion of his crimes. She felt she could see every one in his eyes. Why the hell had she thought this would be a good idea?

“Of course what?” she asked, feeling cold in the pale sunlight.

“I’m surrounded by fools. But my son has excellent taste. Not that I ever doubted it, but it’s good to have it confirmed.”

His eyes were dancing, mercurial and unfathomable, and she wanted nothing more than to run away. 

She was rescued from a humiliating retreat by the appearance of Josh and Jamie - and Alex’s father brightened visibly.

“Oh it’s the Pretty One. And my _my_ haven’t you grown since we last met?”

His eyes trailed over Josh, not just thoroughly indecent, but _appraising_ in a way that set Allison’s teeth on edge, before he turned to Jamie.

“And you’ve found a consort who is, if possible, even more enticing...” 

Reaching out he put a finger under Jamie’s chin, tilting hir face, eyes narrowing. “Mmmm, yes. _Fascinating_ specimen.”

Allison had expected Jamie to move away, but instead hir eyes seemed to narrow, doing that freaky thing of turning completely purple.

The two of them held each other’s eyes for long breathless seconds, then the Master pulled a face, sharply removing his hand and flexing his fingers, studying Jamie with what probably passed for concern.

“And it’s got teeth. H’m. A little too aggressive, I’m afraid - a great shame.”

He cast a glance at Allison.

“See that was one of the greatest things about ruling the world - everyone was so damn _biddable_.”

The lecherous smirk left them in no doubt as to what he meant, and Allison (understanding the Archangel network and beginning to feel sick) wanted to say something furious in response, when she saw Alex returning, pushing his way through the crowds - and then Josh took her completely by surprise.

Looking straight into the Master’s eyes he smiled.

“Oh Jamie and I are _very biddable_ if the right person asks...”

At this exact moment Alex stepped into their tight little group of four, looking from one to the other with deep worry, before freezing as Josh turned to him and proceeded to kiss him full on the mouth with what seemed like well-practised ease. 

Allison could feel her jaw dropping, but was then distracted from the kiss by Jamie briefly grasping her hand. 

_‘He is singular in the universe. Don’t let him go. Please. Give him what he won’t accept from us. We want you to be happy.’_

She didn’t get a chance to react to the unasked-for invasion of her mind as Jamie immediately retook hir place beside Josh, whom Alex was staring at wide-eyed - caught somewhere between alarm and utter shock - but Josh merely winked, as unruffled as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

“Catch you later Seeker. And remember - we’re always here, whatever you need.”

Then, taking Jamie’s arm, he walked off, blanking the Master completely. Allison turned to him, to see what his reply would be - and realised that father and son were looking at each other, the rest of the world forgotten.

Alex had gone very pale, watching his father with a look Allison couldn’t even begin to work out. 

“It’s not what you think-” he began, but his father cut him off, smirking not unlike the cat who got the cream and caught the bird too.

“Oh, don’t try to fool me boy, it’s _exactly_ what I think. However, I suspect it’s not what _they_ think...”

His eyes were dancing with malice, and Allison couldn’t imagine how she’d thought Alex looked like him. 

Then his eyes turned musing, as he tapped a finger to his chin.

“Yes, very nicely done. You should definitely keep them.”

“I’m not keeping them!” Alex replied, appalled, and his father’s expression turned to genuine surprise.

“Whyever not? They’re gorgeous. This one-” he waved a hand towards Allison, “-was probably fun while it lasted, but she’s clearly far too combative for anything long-term. Fob her off on the Doctor if she gets clingy. You, on the other hand, need some _stability_ now you are going back to your proper studies. They’ll do very nicely - especially because they’re a pair. They’ll keep each other occupied when you’re busy. Couldn’t have planned it better myself.”

“They are _people_ , Dad. With _names_ and _lives_ , and they’re my _friends_.”

The Master studied him, face caught between concern and determination.

“Son, I know you’re still young, but you really need to grow out of this nonsense the Doctor peddles. And since you now remember that little incident back in the day, I am sincerely hoping the lesson will sink in.”

Alex was slowly shaking his head, and Allison could feel her breath catch. She had never seen him looked so utterly determined. Not to mention furious.

“ _No_ Dad. _Look_ at me. A Master and a Doctor in a single day. And that’s _it_. That’s what you get, both of you, because I. Am. Not. _Yours_. From now on I will not be fought over, and my life choices will not be used as moves in your _endless_ enmity. I am _the Seeker_ , and I will go my own way. I seek neither the destruction nor the saving of worlds or people, and until you understand that, you understand _nothing_.”

For a second they simply looked at each other, father and son, the father like an older mirror of the younger, except he seemed genuinely taken aback.

Then the Seeker took a step back, studying him coolly.

“If you’d pass that onto the Doctor I would be very grateful. Allison - will you let me have a moment?”

“Sure,” she said faintly, feeling as if tectonic plates had shifted beneath her feet.

It seemed like time had slowed down, but eventually the older Time Lord inclined his head, expression unreadable.

“As you wish, son.”

As his father turned and walked away she thought Alex might never move, a frozen obelisk amongst the crowd. She didn’t understand what had just happened, but having witnessed the effects of his upbringing, something or other had obviously reached a tipping point recently.

Then he seemed to snap of out it, looking around and noticing that they were close the Senate-House. Taking her hand (through habit clearly, and she was too confused to protest) he deftly wove his way through the crowds, and only moments later they found themselves in the now silent and empty building. There had been a doorman, but Alex had merely _looked_ at him, and they’d been let in. Allison bit back on her sharp remark as well as her innate discomfort and followed.

Slowly he walked to the front, studying the ornate dark wooden walls, the intricate ceiling. The building was very nearly 400 years old Allison knew, and he was probably appreciating this. She wondered if he could somehow sense the age of things. There were so many things she’d never asked him.

Sinking into the Vice-Chancellor’s chair (old, with gilded winged lions carved into it) he stayed silent for long that she thought he might have forgotten her presence, but eventually he spoke. His voice was still distant, as if speaking mostly to himself, but the vehemence behind the words was such that she marvelled.

“My whole life... Ever since I was born, they’ve fought over me. Like I’m some sort of prize - the winner takes the universe. And I want nothing to do with it. Don’t want to be a pawn in their millennia long battle, don’t want to be a great saviour or the ruler of worlds. I just want them to _leave me alone_.”

She didn’t know what to say. She’d been going over everything, scared and full of dread, not able to process much... And here he was, as torn and unhappy as she. She’d thought him powerful - and he was - but had never considered the (to her) paradoxical idea that this made him vulnerable...

“They left me alone while I was here... I never realised how much of a relief that was. But it’s all starting up again and I don’t _want_ it. I’m just a kid, and they _use_ that: I’m young, I’m impressionable, if they can get stuff in there, somewhere in my subconscious, I’ll be easier to influence. Rassilon knows what they’ve put in my head. Of course Dad’s done it because he wants me to become his very own Mini-Me, and the Doctor has done it because it’s _right_ and _important_ and _absolutely justified_ and all the rest. They spoil me, will give me anything I want, as long as it will in some way help their purpose. No wonder they got so angry back when-" He caught himself, then continued, bitterly. "Although I've paid my dues on that one. As has everyone else.”

He finally looked at her, tired and apologetic, but his eyes only stayed on her a moment before they grew distant, focussing on something only he could see. He seemed... older. More reflective. 

“Alex... what happened?”

He didn’t object to the name, nor did her look at her again, just bowed his head for a moment, speaking slowly and with an air of defeat she’d never seen before.

“I thought I was doing well. Everything considered. And then- It’s not nice to be faced with the realisation that you’re a complete screw-up. And a dangerous, reckless one at that.”

She could only stare, and he finally looked up again, albeit briefly.

“Josh and Jamie - you saw.”

“Alex, I don’t understand what you’re saying. They...” she hesitated, remembering Jamie’s words, Josh’s kiss. The way the word ‘biddable’ had been thrown around with all kinds of connotations and double meanings. She smiled thinly.

“You slept with them?”

He nodded, still looking so unhappy that she felt genuinely unsettled. There were no justifications, no excuses, no stubbornness. Silently she waited for him to continue.

“I ferried them around on their honeymoon. They wanted... the wonders of the universe. That included me.”

She’d been standing so far, but at his words decided to grab a nearby chair - this was obviously going to take a while. She’d been prepared for him to win her back, for clever schemes that would - in his mind - solve the problems. The gracious speech had been a surprise, but it had still fitted with the boy she’d known. But this... This she didn’t understand at all.

“I just...” he bit his lip, looking so helpless that she wanted to hug him. Instead she waited.

“I just wanted to make them happy. If I was losing them anyway, if they were seeing the Time Lord, and not their friend... At least I could give them something to remember. Something spectacular. Something... _awesome_.”

He lapsed into silence, and after a moment she prompted him again, beginning to feel spooked once more:

“Alex - what did you do?”

For the third time he caught her eyes, but this time he didn’t look away. 

“Exactly what I’m guessing you were worried I’d do to you. I didn’t mean to, I just wanted to thank them for looking after me, and I-”

He shook his head.

“I understand now. Why you were so scared. And you were right to leave, you weren’t safe.”

“Well they... seemed very happy,” she said cautiously, as a cold shiver ran up her spine. She’d not been paranoid after all. He’d hurt his friends somehow, and it had been an accident... 

He smiled joylessly.

“Oh yes, they’re happy - they don’t have a clue. They’d do anything for me. Anything at all...”

He shivered, dragging his feet up onto the chair and curling up, her own feelings mirrored on his face. She absently noticed how comfortable he seemed in his formal robes - she’d found hers interesting, but odd, and not easy to get used to. Alex on the other hand moved as if he’d never worn anything else. Then he spoke, and broke her train of thought.

“Allie - I’m scared. I still don’t know how to fix them. I’ve spent the best part of two years just making sure that-”

“Two years?” she interrupted. “It’s been _two years_ for you?”

He didn’t even flinch at this, holding her eyes calmly and resignedly.

“I didn’t want to set foot amongst humans until I was absolutely sure I was safe to be around.”

And all of a sudden the whole situation sank in properly, and she felt like she could barely breathe. Her main issue, the fear without a name... gone in an instant.

He _understood._

And not just that - he had taken steps to ensure that she was safe.

For the first time since she’d stepped out of his reach in fear she felt she could appraise him properly. As just a person, rather than someone she had to hide from.

“Thank you,” she said gravely. 

“It was the least I could do,” he said softly, lifting his hand to drag it through his hair, and instead encountering the wide-brimmed round velvet bonnet he was wearing. Pulling it off he took a deep breath and studied her properly.

“You look... wonderful,” he said. “And I like your hair. How are you? How’s Manchester? Just... are you OK?”

His eyes were silently saying several thing, and she could read them as clear as day...

He wanted her to be OK. Yet he also wanted her to be missing him, for there to be some kind of future.

She smiled. (It was easy to read people when they were an exact mirror of yourself...)

They spent a long time just talking about her life now, but when she asked him what he’d been doing - other than turning his mind into a fortress - he became oddly hesitant.

“Mostly... working out who I am.”

“In what way?”

“I was Alex for so long, and for him to be just... _gone_... took some adjusting.”

She frowned.

“What do you mean ‘gone’?”

“Alex. I lost him. I mean, he’s still a part of me, but I can’t slip on that mask anymore. Well I’ve tried for today, but it’s...” he shivered, “uncomfortable. I can _feel_ the mask now.”

“So who did I fall in love with?” she asked, feeling that the tiny little piece of ground she had been standing on was rapidly disappearing.

“A shadow?” he replied, then tried to soften the blow:

“I’m still here. All of me. Everything you know and more. The shadow was cast by something solid.”

“A shadow,” she said, “for three years.”

“Try imagine _living_ as a shadow,” he replied. “Your whole life.”

“I don’t care. I spent three years of my life on a _shadow?”_

Just when she’d clawed back something solid, he had to go break it apart. 

He studied her silently, turning the bonnet over in his hands.

“OK, this is a flawed simile, but - have you seen that episode of Buffy where Xander gets split in half?”

She nodded.

“It was a bit like that. There was Time Lord me, the Seeker, and human me - Alex. Except no one can live like that. And eventually it all got too much - reached a peak, and when I looked around there was only me there.”

She remembered the scene well, because it had been so cleverly filmed - the two Xanders waiting for the spell to work, and then turning round, all of a sudden ‘alone’.

“I have lied about who I am all my life. From before I could talk, I knew I couldn’t tell people who I was. I don’t expect your sympathy, but just try to understand what it’s like to be two people. Always. To see everything in duplicate. To constantly balance two realities in your head, to constantly remember which face you’re presenting - it became second nature. My point is - I don’t think I can stay. Here, I mean. On Earth. I quite simply can’t lie anymore. It’s... damaging. And I’m damaged enough as it is.”

She nodded silently, beginning to see the overall picture. 

“So - what you’re saying is that I have a choice between your world and mine?”

Her words seemed to shock him, and he stared at her, like a cat frozen as it glimpses something unexpected.

“You... might still choose me?” he said slowly, voice barely above a whisper, and filled with so much desperate hope that she barely knew how to respond.

“I don’t know. But I love you. And living without you almost hurts more than I can bear.”

In the air above the black and white checkered floor that separated them, she could almost see a slim bridge form. A bridge built on hope and compromise and tiny slivers of possibility.

“Allie...” he said and somehow the next moment they were standing in front of each other.

“I don’t know,” she whispered softly. “It’s my _life_ we’re talking about. I’ll need time.”

_“Time,”_ he replied, “I have in abundance.”

(She suddenly felt like Buffy, talking about being cookie dough, with Angel wandering off saying how he wasn’t getting older... How had her life turned into something out of a TV show?)

Reaching up, Alex touched her cheek reverently.

“I never thought I’d get a second chance. Allie-”

She cut off whatever he was going to say next with a kiss. It was stupid and impulsive and opened up every single painful wound all over again, but she didn’t care.

In response he simply wrapped his arms around her, holding her like he was never going to let go.

(Why did he have to be immortal? Why couldn’t life just bend to her wishes?)

They were interrupted by the Senior Proctor, who cut through their passion with a very disapproving:

“For heaven’s sake, take it outside!”

Breaking apart, they turned their heads, and saw the annoyed figure at the other end of the room, hands on her hips.

“This is what comes of handing Doctorates to youngsters,” she said, walking up the middle aisle between the rows of chairs.

“Doctor Saxon - I had hoped for better, I _must_ say!”

“Doctor Saxon,” he said, sotto voce, “Sounds great doesn’t it? Must get a professorship somewhere - Luna University maybe - that’d show them.”

Eyes dancing, he turned to the Senior Proctor.

“Come now, it’s not that bad. Far worse things have taken place in this building...”

Allison told herself to remember what she’d learned. Because it would be far, _far_ too easy to just fall down this slippery slope again, to set aside worries and concerns and just go along with him, like she had done time and again. 

This time had to be different.

***

“When-” she began as they said goodbye, before faltering. “When will I see you again? What do we do?”

He dipped his head.

“I don’t know. I won’t bother you, I promise - but if you want me, you know how to get hold of me.”

“OK,” she replied, and kissed him again.

All she needed to do now was work out what to do... _Somehow._

***

He watched her walk away, feeling as if his hearts had gone with her.

Although - even if she decided that she didn’t want him, their parting had been on far better terms than before. On the other hand, she had given him hope... A two-edged sword if ever there was one. He wasn’t sure how to cope with the possibility of losing her again. Once had been bad enough - the two years he’d been alone since not helping at all. And he had a terrible premonition that when it came down to it, love wouldn’t be enough...

He sensed Jack step up beside him, and waited for him to speak.

“Well Doctor Saxon, unless I’m mistaken you seem happier than this morning.”

“Yes Captain. Yes I am.”

“Plus your father is unusually smug and happy, there was no alien invasion, I was introduced to a cute ginger kid who needs a little help, and I got Adelaide Brooke’s phone number. Can we agree the day was a success?”

She disappeared round the corner of a beautiful old building, like she was nothing more than an echo of all the people who had once walked the ancient paths. 

He sighed.

_('We who choose to surround ourselves with lives even more temporary than our own, live within a fragile circle, easily and often breached...’)_

"Jack, please teach me how to wait. And how to live when loving someone mortal.”

Jack’s arm wrapped around his still slender shoulders, and he felt a gentle kiss on his hair.

“I’ll do my best, little brother. But remember, I’m only human.”

“That’s what I’m counting on.”


	30. Chapter 30

_Winter 2029_  
It was after Christmas that Toby decided that she was ‘brooding too much’ and dragged her along to the small amateur orchestra he played in.

Troy had been nagging her of course, but she was getting better at tuning him out. But when _Toby_ started she had no choice but to pay attention. 

“You’re working too hard,” he said, and she’d tried to smile.

“I’m trying to cram a Master’s into a single year...”

“And you’re going to kill yourself doing it - and you can’t do a Doctorate if you’re half-dead. Plus you’re obviously still upset about Alex. You need a hobby, and there’s an orchestra all ready and waiting.”

“But the only thing I’ve ever played is the piano, and orchestra’s don’t have pianos.”

She’d never taken to her mother’s love of music, but had nevertheless absorbed a fair bit of knowledge one way or the other.

Toby just looked patient.

“I talked to Andrew already, and he’s quite excited to find out what a piano player could add to our ensemble.”

Despite not having played for... far too many years, Allison was nonetheless curious to meet the mysterious Andrew (he was the same guy who had been involved in the drinking game), so, despite half-hearted protests, she found herself in a cramped community centre on a wet January Thursday evening, surrounded by a group of people as far from her fellow university students as was possible. The majority seemed to be women ageing from about 40 and upwards, along with a few middle aged blokes, plus an acne-riddled teenage boy who looked so shy she didn’t dare talk to him. Not that she had a chance, as Toby dragged her along to meet ‘Our esteemed conductor, Mr Andrew Starbeck’, happily introducing them.

“Allison - pleasure to meet you, you’ll enable me to attempt quite a few things I’ve been wanting to try,” Andrew said, before suddenly smiling: 

“You know, I was thinking - can I call you Al?”

“No!” she replied sharply, as a lifetime’s worth of dealing with her little brother reared its head.

Andrew was clearly taken aback, stuttering some sort of explanation involving The Ramones, and Allison forced herself to actually focus. She was getting entirely too good at just cruising along without paying attention to anything beyond her studies and the personal conundrums about her future. To the extent of being deeply rude to strangers...

As she did her best to apologise - explaining about Jimmy’s irritating habit and so forth - she noted down the fact that Andrew appeared to be about 30, with short-ish thick dark hair, and a small beard that had probably been fashionable ten years previously. He was wearing a colourful jumper over a stripy shirt and black jeans, and was generally so pleasantly ordinary-looking (the colour scheme apart) that on her own she’d never have spared him a second glance.

Feeling rather bad - both about her rudeness, as well as the way she had subconsciously dismissed him (the way she did mostly everyone lately) - she made a sudden decision.

“Actually - _do_ call me Al! As long as you promise not to be harsh on me when it comes to my musical abilities. They’re pretty much zero.”

“Fair enough,” he said, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She still wasn’t sure what she was doing here, but falling out with the conductor on the first day would have been pretty fatal.

***

Afterwards, at the pub (this was a ironclad post-rehearsal ritual she swiftly discovered), she reflected on the experience.

It was obvious that Toby and Troy rather enjoyed all the attention from ‘the ladies’, who seemed to mother them intensively, although Troy claimed to be tone deaf and had assigned himself the role of ‘audience’. When she’d complimented him on his devotion to her brother (she could think of no other reason for willingly sitting through weekly rehearsals without something to do), he winked and merely said ‘Tight jeans. Great view!’ He was clearly incorrigible... 

Her thoughts were interrupted by Andrew.

“Well Al, that wasn’t half as bad as I was expecting.”

She attempted a smile. 

“Thank you. But you don’t have to patronise me.”

“I’m not,” he replied. “As your brother might have mentioned I teach in a High School, spending my days wondering how many more ways teenagers can make instruments create new and unexpected noises that no one should ever have to endure. And their musical tastes are atrocious.”

He chuckled, and had another mouthful of Guinness.

“OK, maybe I’m a little harsh - there are a few good ‘uns who make it all worthwhile, but sometimes I look back on my youthful dreams and wonder what the heck I’m doing with my life.”

A pause as she just looked at him, and he shrugged.

“Sorry, you’re all young and brilliant and have your whole future in front of you - please ignore me, I was never genius material. Go on - what is that you do? Some kind of science MA, right?”

At this Troy’s eyes went wide.

“Oh Andrew, you don’t know what you’ve done!”

“What?” Andrew asked, looking confused.

“Be prepared to not fathom a single thing she says for the next ten minutes or so...”

“Hey!” Allison said, and then attempted to explain to them what she was working on, in words they could understand. 

She wasn’t sure she succeeded.

***

However - just as Toby had predicted - the little orchestra proved to be more or less the perfect getaway. She could lose herself in music, which required a completely different set of mind-skills than her MA, and afterwards there were drinks and good company.

Toby, Troy and Andrew had formed a lovely little trio of cameradie, with Andrew in a vaguely older brother/fatherly role towards the other two, except for how Troy never missed an opportunity for flirting with him and suggesting threesomes. Andrew (who was very straight) found the whole thing amusing, and seemed to regard Troy as something akin to an easily excitable puppy. They’d chat and joke and discuss whichever news headline had made Andrew cross that week, and it was a welcome breather from the intense focus of her studies.

Plus, it stopped her from _thinking_.

Because at the back of her mind, constantly, _The Choice_ was ticking over. 

Which world did she want?

What life would she be happiest with?

Her future, her _life_ in the balance, and how on earth was she supposed to choose?

And at the heart of everything - Alex. The one everything turned around. The choice was different from before. Straightforward. Clear-cut, even. His world, or her own. 

It was as if someone had pressed the pause button on her life. And until she’d made her choice it’d stay paused - and she didn’t even know how to begin choosing.

Obsessively she’d go over everything he’d said, even though it never made things easier. She wasn’t scared he would hurt her - not the way she had been initially - yet his whole world was equal parts wondrous and frightening....

> At graduation, after they’d been thrown out of the Senate-House, he’d said something about ‘When my father ruled the world’.
> 
> The sentence had tripped her up, and she’d asked what he’d meant. 
> 
> “Didn’t Matt tell you?” he asked, and she’d shaken her head.
> 
> “Tell me what? He told me about when he and Josh met your father - that whole thing about you being abducted - but that’s all.”
> 
> He’d done his thing of going very quiet, and then found a private spot to explain about... impossibility. Paradoxes and a world in slavery and warships ready to launch war on the universe and at the heart of it the boy she loved. The Prince of the universe - the child born to rule. Alexander the Great.
> 
> (The name made more sense in the light of all this, and she began to understand why he’d chosen a different name for himself and seemed to brandish his new identity as a shield.)
> 
> As she’d tried to wrap her mind around what it all meant, he’d smiled one of those smiles that wasn’t a smile at all.
> 
> “You know that funny story your family tell about how you cried when the President was shot, when you were only a baby? It’s not funny at all. It was the moment when time returned to its proper flow. Your cries had nothing to do with what they’d been watching on TV, and everything to do with having been dead, and suddenly being alive again. Maybe you sensed it somehow, who knows.”
> 
> “I died?” she’d asked, going cold all over, and he’d avoided her eyes. 
> 
> “Even if you survived the culling on the first day, children didn’t last long in my father’s world.”
> 
> “Except you,” she replied, unable to help herself, and he’d looked up, shades of something in his eyes that she couldn’t fathom. Something hard, and damaged, and _other_ : 
> 
> “Ah now, that’s where it gets... _interesting_. As I explained to you, the Doctor reversed time - saving Earth, saving you all. Yet the only reason _I’m_ still here is because those of us in the eye of the storm happened to somehow escape the effects of the time reversal. And it took me a long time to put the pieces together, but - there was _no way_ he could have known that.”
> 
> His eyes drifted away from her face again, focus changed.
> 
> “My father realised immediately, and he’s never forgiven him. I... don’t know how I feel, if I’m honest. I’ve never spoken to the Doctor about it - but then how would I even begin to broach the subject about the fact that he was willing to sacrifice me to save the world? It’s a harsh lesson to absorb... And I think I was only eight or nine when I worked it out: I’m _expendable_. Just like everyone else. This is what makes the Doctor a far more dangerous man than you might think, far more dangerous than my father. Because the Doctor will do whatever it takes...” 
> 
> A bitter smile.
> 
> “He’s a hero, you see.”

Looking back on it now, she still shuddered. His was a world of beings who dealt in the fates of whole worlds and peoples as though it was their right... She had been frightened when she’d first understood his power, but glimpsing what lay behind it - the complexity underpinning his life, the impossible shades of light and dark, the realities of the men who were bringing him up - she was beginning to understand why he had built himself a whole world. (‘I. Am. Not. _Yours!'_ he was saying in her mind, furious, and she now knew why. And loved him all the more for it.)

Yet she couldn’t have the wonder without the darkness. Couldn’t let herself love him, without accepting that whole other side of him - all the people who were an irrefutable part of his life.

The impossibility of the choice gnawed at her constantly, nibbling at the edge of her consciousness wherever she was, making her tune out everything unimportant.

At least she’d managed to wrangle her day-to-day life into submission. She worked harder than she ever had, became almost proficient in her piano playing, and even managed to be sociable to the point of somehow volunteering to do a talk at Andrew’s school to the kids who were about to choose their GCSEs in order to encourage more girls to take up the sciences.

(If she was honest, it was more a case of nodding along with an argument until she’d found herself somehow entangled, unable to escape.)

It all went rather well in the end, partly because of an obnoxious boy. 

After she’d been introduced to the classroom full of 14 year olds, she decided to start off with a rather basic ‘Before I start, does anyone have any questions?’

The lad (his hair styled to within an inch and the teacher clearly smoothing down irritation or discomfort) held up his hand.

“Right, so, I was wondering - hasn’t it been proved, like, with studies and stuff, that women’s brains aren’t as good at maths and stuff? I’m not being, like, sexist, but isn’t that just a _fact_?”

Allison smiled sweetly, and five minutes later had the boy looking thoroughly flattened, while the girls in the class were nearly cheering out loud.

“Now, that was a _very_ brief story of patriarchy - with a little Feminism 101 thrown in for free - but I just want to make sure that you are aware that Feminism isn’t about putting men down. It’s quite simply about equality. So - let me talk to you about science...”

At the end of it, when she reckoned she’d lost the best part of them again, thanks to technical stuff, she brought out her pièce de résistance - the planetarium Alex had given her. 

Drawing the blinds, she explained: “I just want you to understand why I am half-killing myself studying. And why there’s a job waiting for me at NASA...”

She left them starry eyed, and hopefully inspired. 

But although she’d enjoyed the experience, it had been very time-consuming all told. It couldn’t be a regular occurrence by any measure.

Plus, they’d asked about Adelaide (of course), and she’d done a little basking in reflected glory, since Adelaide was almost a household name thanks to Project Pitstop. Still, she once again berated herself for forgetting to asking Alex what the deal was. Why had they all looked at her like _that_? Of course she could just pick up the phone and ask, and yet... 

By whichever strange logic ruled her at the moment, she didn’t want to speak to him until she’d made up her mind. 

So she waited, studying as if her life depended on it, and couldn’t shake the feeling of her life being paused.


	31. Chapter 31

_Summer 2029_  
It was officially the start of the summer holidays, and there were celebrations to be had. On the back of Manchester University acknowledging her Master’s, Allison had applied to Harvard for a Doctorate... and been successful! 

It seemed like a dream. Harvard was - if possible - something more unreal than NASA. Something out of movies. Not something that would be part of her life come autumn... She was applying for visas, and trying to decide how much time she wanted to spend there, as she could do part of it ‘long distance’, so she didn’t have to pack up her life in the UK completely. It was an exciting whirlwind, and she felt slightly like she was floating. 

(She’d be a _Doctor of Science_. Just like _him_. There was something immensely important about that.)

The orchestra had gone on hiatus, but Toby asked Andrew to come along for the impromptu celebration they decided to indulge in once everything was more-or-less settled.

“Feels wrong going out drinking without him, y’know?”

Troy insisted on buying the first round, and hauled Allison along to the bar to carry. She protested, saying that surely she should be _served_ \- what with being the cause of the celebrations - but Troy merely rolled his eyes, and she laughed and followed.

As they waited for the bartender to get the different drinks ready, Troy shot her an inscrutable look.

“He likes you, you know.”

She blinked, thrown out of her thoughts.

“Who? What?”

“Andrew. He likes you.”

“OK...” she replied, not following. They argued now and again, but it was pretty good-natured. She’d just discovered that he had an argumentative streak and had fun pressing his buttons - and as she had never worried that he’d hold it against her, Troy’s reassurance seemed to come out of nowhere.

And now Troy was rolling his eyes.

“Christ Allie, how can you be so smart and so dim at the same time? He _likes_ you!”

A significant look followed, and it was all she could do not to turn around and shoot Andrew a look.

“Oh,” she said stupidly, as the significance sank in. “Oh. I see. Right.”

The rest of the evening passed in a strange sort of blur.

In the back of her mind was a little voice saying ‘He _likes_ me’, over and over, and she found herself looking at him with new eyes. 

If he noticed, he didn’t let on - and besides Troy could talk enough for ten people. Plus, they were drinking... Or celebrating, rather. Except Doctorates and Harvard suddenly seemed somehow distant compared to other things.

Like how broad-shouldered Andrew was. (He’d run a marathon a few years ago for breast cancer, she knew, because of his mother.) 

And how she really liked the way he smiled. (She had thought him ‘ordinary’ once, she seemed to recall. How strange that seemed with hindsight. Especially considering tonight’s canary yellow shirt which by all rules of logic ought to look awful, but didn’t.)

How very different he was from the other people in her life - older; settled. He had a proper job and a mortgage and a pension plan. His opinions were based on experience and not ideals, and he had wealth of stories and viewpoints that didn’t come from going out hunting for adventures when a teenager, but quite simply from accumulating experiences over many years.

Which might be why she enjoyed arguing with him so much. They were both contrary and would challenge each other endlessly... He’d dreamed of being a composer she’d discovered, and she thought it foolish to have given up on this ambition. He on the other hand tried to curb her immense self-assurance, warning her that life could throw you curve balls you’d not foreseen. In response to which she called him ‘Betty’ and told him he had _no_ idea... And so on. Any subject under the sun. It had made the post-rehearsal pub gatherings entertaining in ways few other things in her life were.

And now... he _liked_ her. She didn’t have a clue what to do with this insight. It was like a giant truck crashing into her ordered life, throwing all her neatly organised problems into disarray. Would he say something? What would she reply? Her life and been ‘Alex or not Alex’ for so long that the very idea of ‘Alex or _someone else_ ’ was nigh on impossible to grasp. Not that she was in love with Andrew or anything (he was just... _Andrew_ ), but she might just like him too... And what the hell did that even mean? 

At closing time he insisted on walking her home, as they’d both drunk entirely too much to drive, and she lived within walking distance. He’d get a taxi once he’d seen her safely back home. 

Yet as they stood outside the door to her flat, there came an awkward pause... She’d thanked him, and he’d said it was nothing and by the rules of normal behaviour either of them should move. 

Instead there was an awkward pause, eventually broken by Andrew saying merely “Al-” and tentatively reaching out for her. In response she stepped into his personal space; and his hand pulled her into an embrace as he leaned in to kiss her.

She’d meant it as a good night kiss, as a thank you, as an extension of the evening’s sudden curiosity - her ordinary barriers worn away by the drink.

But she felt his arms around her, strong and assured; felt his body against her own - and feelings and urges that had been buried and banished for months on end suddenly made themselves known again: like a limb that had fallen asleep suddenly waking up and tingling all over. 

Desire, hot and new, seemed to run through her, and when the kiss ended she felt her breath hitch, and she didn’t move out of his embrace.

“Will you stay with me?” she asked, scanning his face. “Just for tonight?”

He hesitated, absently letting his hand stroke her back, and she shivered in sudden anticipation. 

“Why?” he said, voice becoming oddly rough as his hand pressed her closer to him, and the sensation made her head spin. She could barely remember the last time she’d been this close to anyone, and she wondered what had happened to her sensible, rational side. Maybe she was more drunk than she thought, but something seemed to have come unstuck. She barely knew what she would do next.

“I’m lonely,” she replied, and the unexpected, bitter truth of the statement took her unawares, momentarily shocking her into silence.

Because suddenly she could see what she had been doing... 

For months on end she had been cutting herself off from almost everyone, casually letting old friendships slide and not forging new ones. If it hadn’t been for Toby dragging her along to the orchestra she would not know anyone outside her fellow students at the university - and she had been increasingly distant with everyone there as her work pace had increased. Her family (rightly concerned that she’d broken up with her boyfriend and never explained why) had continually been given the brush-off. 

And maybe it was the drink, but she felt like she was having an epiphany: Human life was like... an orchestra. Fitting your own tune into the rich tapestry of sound from everyone around you, creating a collective melody. She had known this from infancy, surrounded by a loving family. Except since last autumn she had essentially been aiming for the part of a soloist. In the same way as Alex - who had always been utterly singular (far more so than she had guessed at the beginning) - she had allowed a few supporting players, but overall she had been on track to turn herself into someone like him. Appreciative of others, friendly even, but aloof and remote... America would have been the final step, moving away from the last few people that had a grasp on her. 

And what it all added up to was a pre-emptive choice, made through her actions. If she cut out the world of humans, focussing solely on knowledge, it left the world of the Time Lord her only real option... Beautiful, brilliant, magical, singular. But alien.

Abruptly and unexpectedly scared of where she might end up she held onto Andrew more tightly. There was a whole world out there; living, breathing, _human_. A world of music, rich and varied and wonderful, that she could be part of.

_Her_ world.

Her world, which was somehow, at this moment, manifest in the man in her arms.

“Andrew please-”

He cut her off with another kiss.

After that, there was a search for her keys, and then happy, breathless, glorious passion. The ungracefulness of undressing (when you could only reach the zip on the back of your dress by contortions, it led to helpless giggles - the resulting helpfulness quickly turning to caresses), followed by the inevitable fumbling and awkwardness of a first time, trying to discover what the other liked and what put them off. 

And elbows. She could not remember elbows featuring in her sex life the past few years, but she didn’t mind. It was all _human_. Tentative, unplanned, and not exactly graceful, but real in its basic human need and fervour.

Afterwards, as she laid with her head on his chest (his chest was practically a rug, the hairs tickling her nose), he cleared his throat.

“Just for future reference... I should like to point out that I, well, usually last a good bit longer. A little bit _too_ drunk I’m afraid.”

She smiled, an indefinable joy taking hold of her. The very ordinariness somehow extraordinary. And he’d apologised for being less than perfect...

“Don’t worry,” she said sleepily, smiling against his chest, “it was everything I wanted.”

She fell asleep listening to a single heartbeat, more at peace than she had been in a long, long time.

***

But of course it wasn’t that simple. The next morning brought with it all the troubles she’d been running from, and more besides.

They’d gotten semi-dressed, and had some tea, when Andrew looked at her, smiling happily.

“Now this is sort of back-to-front, but could I invite you out to dinner? It’d be nice to, well, spend some actual time with you. Somewhere other than a pub or surrounded by older ladies.”

“I-” She closed her eyes, cutting off the ‘would love to’ before it escaped her lips. 

“I can’t. I’m sorry, this is where it gets complicated.”

He looked a little put out.

“What do you mean? I know you’re going to America, but that’s only temporary, right? A few months here and there.”

Folding her hands, she tried to gather her thoughts. What had seemed so blissfully uncomplicated last night was suddenly a tower of impossibility. And had nothing to do with Harvard. She could hide behind her American stint, but it didn’t feel fair - he deserved the truth. 

“My ex... I don’t know how much you know. But... we’re not so much broken up as ‘on a break’...”

Clouds formed on his face as understanding grew.

“So what you’re saying...”

“I broke up with him, but mostly in an attempt at getting my head together, trying to work out if I really wanted to stay with him for good. That was last autumn and.... I’m really no nearer a resolution.”

He shook his head, almost speechless.

”So what was last night? You wanted a roll in the hay and I was to hand?”

“Andrew no-”

“And here I was, thinking that I’d finally found a girl I really liked - someone funny and smart - OK, _scarily_ smart, but I’m fine with that - someone that I really got along with, and who seemed to like me too. And all that time there’s been someone else in the background-”

A sudden penetrating look, as another thing clearly occurred to him.

“Do you love him?”

She nodded miserably.

“Yes. More than I can explain.”

If he’d been incredulous before, now he practically exploded.

“Well what the ever loving _fuck_ did you want with me?”

“I... Please Andrew, will you let me try to explain?”

He sat down and folded his arms, the fury momentarily contained.

“Go on then. Impress me. ‘Cause this better be good.”

Everything was falling to pieces around her, and she wasn’t even sure where to start. She was used to having the moral high ground, to being the injured party. The role reversal was unwelcome and unfamiliar and she wasn’t sure what she was doing.

“It’s just... He’s like - like - Ferris Bueller. No really. Everything just seemed... _brighter_ when he was around. Sort of magical. Imagine living in that movie. For three years. Being with someone who could fix any issue with a smile and a flick of the wrist. Who could have a whole street dancing and singing along...”

She stopped, the analogy having suddenly hit far too close to home.

Andrew wasn’t impressed.

“Well, if he’s so bloody wonderful why did you leave?”

(The people singing, all singing with his voice... And he’d learned his lesson, but still. The things he could do...)

She wrapped her arms around herself. So _lonely_. She wished he would hold her again. Just until she’d worked out what to do. If only she could have it both ways... Human life during the week, and golden skies during the weekend. And he was still waiting for an answer.

“He... lied to me. For the whole of those three years. Plus, he’s hugely manipulative and... damaged. Massive, huge issues that I can’t even begin to describe. Oh and he sort of cheated on me.”

The look on Andrew’s face was one usually reserved for talking about idiot girls in TV shows.

“Sounds like a real prince,” he remarked sarcastically, and she almost laughed. In her mind she could still hear him say ‘I was born to rule the universe’, could easily envision his beautiful planet...

“He is,” she said simply. “I know what you must be thinking, but I’m not an idiot blinded by love. It’s just... He can give me everything I could ever want, except a normal life. How am I supposed to walk away from that? And he’d do anything for me... It was... like a fairy tale.”

Andrew’s incredulity dissolved into something like a resigned - almost wistful - smile.

“I... guess I forgot how young you are. I remember being 22. That intensity of feeling...”

And in an instant her complex issues changed into anger:

“Oh, don’t you _dare_ patronise me! I’ve done things you can’t dream of and seen things you wouldn’t believe. I really am sorry that I hurt you, and if you want to be angry because of that, then that’s your prerogative, and I accept that. But I seem to remember that I asked you to stay last night because I was _lonely_ , not because I wanted a relationship! I never promised you _anything_.”

His eyes had widened, like the first time they met and she’d snapped at him, and then he slowly shook his head.

“Your brother did say never to get you angry... Christ almighty Al, I’ll be sure to keep a safe distance from now on.”

She wanted to say something, but didn’t know what. There didn’t seem to be anything _to_ say...

***

After he’d gone she sank down into the sofa, trying not to cry. All she’d wanted was some solace, and instead she’d managed to screw over a properly decent guy, probably destroying their friendship for good, and make herself even more miserable in the process. And it was all her own fault. His angry words kept going in circles in her head, impossible to avoid.

‘You put your pleasure above my feelings.’ 

Well he’d not used those actual words, but the message had been the same. 

She seemed on a course to repeat all of Alex’s mistakes firsthand, and she didn’t like it. Maybe she’d just been so changed by their relationship that she was unable to behave normally....

Because she realised that - although she was sorry he’d been upset, not to mention the whole outcome of the thing - she was finding it nigh-on impossible to be sorry that it had happened at all. If he’d been fine, she’d not have felt guilty at all... 

Should she just give up on all pretence of ever attaining a normal human life and say yes to Alex? Let herself fall into his world, and his all-encompassing love? Give in, lock stock and barrel - allowing herself to be his completely... The temptation was nearly overwhelming. 

(She felt rather like the unnamed girl from Pulp’s Common People - all it’d take would be a single call and she could leave all this behind...)

Her phone vibrated, shaking her out of her defeatist thoughts, and she saw it was a message from Jess. Curious, she opened it.

_‘Ali babes, can I crash at yours for a while until I get on my feet again? Got fired and mum’s gone crazy so I can’t go home. Jess’_

Without a second’s hesitation she replied.

_‘For as long as you like. When are you coming?’_

***

Jess turned up a little more than 24 hours later with three designer suitcases and more boisterousness than Allison really knew what to do with.

Not that her life had been completely quiet the past year or so, as Troy was of course... _Troy_ \- but he’d calmed down a lot thanks to Toby, and besides, a lot of it was a reaction to his upbringing. Jess was just Jess, the self-proclaimed ‘Capitano’ of any gathering. 

“So, um, why did you get fired?” Allison asked, slightly nervously, after they’d stashed Jess’ stuff away in the spare bedroom. “If you don’t mind talking about it?”

“Oh, not at all! I shagged a passenger in the toilets.”

“You what?”

“Allie - what’s the point of being a stewardess if you’re not a member of the Mile High Club? A good few times over...”

She grinned knowingly.

“He was gorgeous - bit film starry, look-wise, and worth a fortune. Some kind of banker I think. Gave me a gold necklace afterwards - think he was feeling guilty.”

“But...”

“Guess we were too loud. Shame, I liked that airline. The skirts were _this_ short.”

She illustrated, and Allison shook her head. 

“You never change, do you?”

Jess laughed.

“Never, babes! But what’s up with you? You look so miserable that I’m thinking I didn’t come a moment too soon. Go on, spit it out. What is it? No don’t tell me...”

She closed her eyes, held her hands to her temples.

“A fella!” Her eyes snapped open. “I decree it must be a fella! Allie, what _have_ you been doing?”

So Allison told as much as she could manage to share, and Jess listened to her woes with careful attention, before offering her own unique perspective.

“Right, let me get this straight. You broke up with Mr Perfect because he turned out to be a bit of a dick - lying and cheating and stuff - and his family are mostly psychos. But he was sorry and all that, and he’s cute and rich, so it’s a bit of a toss up. So you get yourself all in a worry about it.”

Allison opened her mouth, but was pre-emptively silenced by a swift ‘ _Don’t_ interrupt the Capitano!’ before Jess continued:

“And then when you - for once, in your dull, sensible, spontaneity-challenged life - do something impulsive and sleep with Mr Tall, Dark and Convenient, cause you needed some TLC, he goes all old fashioned on you, and decides that somehow it was the start of something special, and gets all huffy.”

Tilting her head, a frown marring her clear forehead as she twirled a stray golden lock, Jess studied her.

“Now what I don’t get is why you think that somehow this means your life is over and you’re doomed to badness. Allie, we’re twenty two years old! We’re _supposed_ to make mistakes and shag a few dud ones - plus a lot of gorgeous ones with zero brain cells, just cause they’re gorgeous - and generally just have _fun_. You remember _fun_ , right?”

Jess had a very unfortunate way of putting her finger on the sore spot. Allison tried not to pout.

“I thought you got fired because you had so much ‘fun’ on the job.”

“And look at me! Am I moaning? No, not me. Because it was worth it and I’d do it again.”

Allison was slightly lost for words.

“Well when you put it like that...”

”Allie darling, you always took everything far too seriously. Like I just said: We’re young, we’re gorgeous-”

“ _You_ are gorgeous,” Allison amended, and Jess laughed.

“Hey now girl friend, don’t put yourself down. You’ve got assets! Hell, you’re down in the dumps because you’ve got _two_ guys chasing you, and you can’t choose! You’re _spoiled_ , that’s what you are. And anyway, to get back to my point: we’re young and we’re supposed to have fun. So that’s my new mission: To make sure you have fun!”

Jess was very thorough. She swiftly found every bar and club worth going to within the Manchester city area, and declared they had to try each one several times to find out which one was best. She made Allison dress up and drink and dance and flirt, the two of them invariably ending up in ridiculous situations at 2 o’clock in the morning, involving guys in a gorilla suit, or handsome police officers, or a gaggle of drunk admirers that had attached themselves like limpets... ‘The Capitano’ had quite a talent. 

Now and again Allison even found herself making out with some of the tag-alongs, although it was mostly to stop them from talking. It would seem that every boy in the whole of Manchester was deathly dull and unable to hold a conversation that could keep her interested for more than a minute. At least the ‘fun loving’ ones...

She missed Andrew. Missed the easy banter they’d had, and the heated discussions, and cursed herself repeatedly for ruining a good friendship. Plus Troy and Toby were unhappy with her about the whole thing.

But Jess never allowed her to dwell on anything for too long, filling up the days with proper girl-y bonding time, catching up on where their lives had led them, and comparing notes on travelling the world.

Still, after a month of ‘fun’ Allison began to feel distinctly... bored. Jess had many good qualities, but she did not posses Allison’s ambition or impatience. So when Professor Trinder sent her an invitation for a Symposium in Cardiff at the start of August she jumped at the chance to do something other than ‘enjoy’ herself.

Jess thought she was mad (‘The average age will be, like, 70!’) but Allison had long since stopped trying to explain the unparalleled thrill of proper, pure science, and how it cut across any barriers. (Well, most barriers. And if there were any sexist old idiots she was more than brilliant enough to hold her own.)

Besides Harvard was beckoning on the horizon... Whatever the future held, she wanted that Doctorate, that much she knew.

As she drove down to Wales she couldn’t help musing on _The Choice_ and her own indecision. It had been close to a year since Alex had told her the truth about himself, and she was no closer to a decision. Yet how could she choose? Normal life on one hand, impossibleness on the other. She was hovering on the edge, unable to take either path, because it meant letting the other go. 

With a sensation of her whole head going ‘Oh of _course_!’ and nearly smacking her own forehead (she was grateful for the auto-steering of the hired car, otherwise she would probably have swerved all over), it occurred to her that this must have been Alex’s dilemma also. 

She had - repeatedly - wondered why he had delayed so much in telling her the truth. But this had to be why... Once he’d told, there was no going back. And as she found herself on the brink of a choice of her own, she found she could more easily forgive his hesitation. 

And understanding was the first step towards acceptance, wasn’t it?

***

It was nearly night, the last strands of daylight vanishing behind the horizon, by the time she arrived in Cardiff. She found a large multi-story car park and locked the car, thinking that they could have chosen less murky lighting - it was a prime spot for muggings, and dreaded to think what the place was like in winter. Turning on the spot, trying to determine which was the way out and where she’d get a ticket for the car, she noted with irritation that the waist high partitions and the wide concrete pillars did not exactly make it easy to navigate.

But then there was a sudden strange and bright light, and she instinctively leapt behind the nearest pillar. As no explosion followed she peered out, and suddenly felt her heart in her mouth at what she saw. 

There seemed to be a golden tear in mid air about 20 yards away, and through it several large, green aliens were stepping.


	32. Chapter 32

Hiding behind the partitioning wall, Allison could hear the aliens discuss something (she couldn’t understand what they were saying, but they sounded urgent), before she heard them move away, their footsteps loud in the silence of the car park, the sounds of the city only filtering in dimly.

Cautiously peering over the concrete barrier she saw them disappear behind a wall (there were at least eight, big green lolloping creatures, carrying weapons in their claws), and breathed a silent sigh of relief. She had no idea why she’d not expected this - she knew of Torchwood, and why they were based where they were. 

Even as the thought formed in her mind, there was a bright flash and two men appeared in the exact spot where the aliens had walked through the golden gap. Even as her vision adjusted - she was still hiding, only her eyes peering over the barrier - she recognised Jack and almost sagged from relief. The other man was about as tall, but younger and slimmer - his hair was bright orange and slicked back, and he wore a knee length dark blue sharply tailored coat over a crisp white shirt and black trousers and shoes. One of the new Torchwood employees she presumed. 

The two were conferring, studying something on Jack’s wrist strap, and Allison was wondering whether to shout out to them when deathly shots suddenly cut through the air - causing both of them to leap to safety, and Allison to duck down behind her shelter again, fervently wishing that she’d taken Jess’ advice and not come. Future plans were pointless if she got herself killed...

Cautiously opening her eyes when the blasts died down she realised that the redheaded one had sought shelter behind ‘her’ partition. He was glancing round the corner, clearly trying to work out where the aliens were hiding, muttering ‘I _hate_ days like this’ repeatedly, before withdrawing and sadly inspecting his coat where a stray shot had singed it badly. The light was too murky to make out much, but Allison saw that he was handsome, although very angular, with cheekbones that would have had Jess swooning. 

As he looked up from the coat he finally noticed her - and froze.

She’d been planning to ask if more Torchwood agents were on their way - explaining that she knew Jack - but the look on his face silenced her completely. He was looking at her as if she was a dream (or possibly nightmare) come to life. Then he very slowly moved closer, reaching out to touch her cheek. (She was beginning to be seriously freaked out, but couldn’t seem to move.)

“Allison?” he asked, voice a breathless whisper, before letting his hand fall, the ghost of a touch on her skin.

Then his expression changed from incredulity to something she couldn’t define - a strange combination of sad and bitter, his lips curling into a what might pass for a smile.

“Truly I am fortune’s fool,” he said, shaking his head, and she forced herself to speak.

“Who are you?” she asked, unsure which was more unsettling - the aliens with their scary weapons, or this stranger who seemed to know her even though she had never seen him before.

Her words made him inhale sharply, as though hurt.

“Allison - it’s _me_ ,” he replied, abruptly grasping her hand. “The Seeker. _Alex_. I died. Got a new face. I told you how that works, remember?”

Withdrawing her hand as if scalded she could only stare in silent shock. The man in front of her was nothing like her Alex. Everything that had been curved and soft was now sharp and angular, the planes of his face unknown and uncompromising. Where Alex’s dress sense had always been laid back (bordering on lazy), this stranger made Josh look scruffy in comparison, the lines of his clothing so clean and sharp they could have come from a fashion magazine. The brown eyes she remembered so vividly (brown eyes that had held a hundred different shades, all of which she could read like an open book) were a million miles from the cool blue that were now studying her.

Slowly she shook her head. 

“No. No, you can’t be.”

The stranger closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, then focussed on her again with that unnerving intensity. 

“The first time you kissed me, I asked you why. You replied that because underneath everything I was only human.”

He tilted his head, the motion so familiar despite the difference in looks that she almost felt faint.

“I have never forgotten that.”

The remembered truth of his words sank as if in slow-motion, as she tried to reconcile the man in front of her with the boy she had known (dying had aged him. But that was not surprising, was it?) - but before she could reply, trying to process the reality of what had happened (he’d _died_ \- he’d _died_ and she hadn’t known), there was a sudden commotion and the sounds of fighting. With a jolt she realised that she had completely forgotten about the aliens, as the stranger (her Alex?) by her side went completely still, his attention on the tumult as he listened intently.

Then silence feel once more and an alien voice called out. This time in English, although with strange accentuation.

“Time Lord! We have your friend! Come out, and give up your arms!”

Alex (or rather, the Alex who wore a stranger’s face, she didn’t know what to call him) sighed deeply, letting his head fall back against the concrete, before shouting back. Except he wasn’t replying to the aliens.

“Jack you _moron!_ ”

“Sorry Seeker - but I did kill three of them!” came the reply, and the strange new Alex smiled wryly.

“Well, it’ll be your funeral,” he said, mostly to himself it seemed, as the aliens got impatient.

“Stop wasting time. Give yourself up, or we kill him!”

Reaching into his inside coat pocket the new Alex brought out a strange tool of some sort, the brushed metal gleaming dully in the dim light. 

“Hate days like this,” he muttered again, then slowly turned to her, eyes so guarded she had no idea what he was going to say.

But instead of speaking he abruptly pulled her in, kissing her with such passion that he left her utterly breathless, staring at him open mouthed when he let go.

“Sorry my love, but you are _never_ going to let me do that again.” 

Hefting the odd metal object, knuckles nearly going white, he added - voice serious and sad in equal measure.

“Please don’t hate me. Remember - it’s like Spiderman.”

She had no time to reply as he jumped to his feet, scanning the surroundings, before doing one of those jumping-rolling-shooting manoeuvres she had only ever seen in movies, belatedly realising that the metal tool was some sort of weapon; a golden beam searing a path of destruction as he moved. The aliens of course fired back, and she ducked down, feeling not just terrified but utterly confused; cowering from the battle until suddenly there was only silence, broken by the bleeping of car alarms.

Cautiously looking over the edge she was faced with a scene of pure devastation. 

The flame haired Alex was standing, as unmoving as a statue, his weapon aimed straight at the last living alien, which was pointing a own gun of its own straight back at Alex. Dead alien bodies lay where they’d fallen, the floor in some places glistening with blood - and after a moment Allison, with a strange lurch in her stomach, recognised Jack’s military blue amongst the green.

She couldn’t take it in. It was like something out of a film. This... didn’t happen in real life. The air smelled of burnt flesh and death. She wanted to be sick. 

Then Alex spoke, his strange new voice completely without emotion.

“Drop your weapon.”

The alien’s gun seemed to shake momentarily, but then it shook its head.

“Drop your weapon,” Alex repeated, still unmoving, the stark outline of the dark coat accentuating his sharp-edged silhouette - like something out a nightmare. “In case you hadn’t noticed I’ve killed everyone else, including my best friend. I am faster than you and smarter than you, and besides I’m immortal. _Drop. your. weapon_.”

The silence stretched, then with a clatter the alien’s gun fell to floor. 

“Thanks,” Alex said, expression still a blank, as he momentarily raised his weapon and pressed something which made the car alarms stop bleeping. The sudden silence was oppressive.

Then he moved forwards, his weapon once more aimed squarely at the alien, and it fell to its knees. 

(Allison watched - unable to move, unable to reconcile what she was witnessing with what she knew to be true. Maybe she should call him ‘Seeker’ rather than ‘Alex’? ‘Alex’ didn’t fit him at all anymore... ) 

“Mercy,” the alien said, its voice odd and yet clearly pleading - and something like a sneer appeared on the Seeker’s face. Allison was suddenly reminded of the incident with the paparazzi photographer. That... pure disdain. It had blossomed into _this_?

“Mercy?” the Seeker repeated, voice so cold it made her shiver. “Sorry, wrong Time Lord.”

Stopping in front of the now pathetic looking creature, he tilted his head, and the gesture wasn’t familiar at all. This was no longer the boy in whom she had seen humanity - this was pure Time Lord: Everything she had pulled away from. But then he spoke, distracting her.

“You know, I was planning on having such a pleasant evening. A nice dinner, followed by a book in front of the fireplace - maybe a glass of wine. Except then Jack calls me, tells me that he needs a hand... And the upshot is that I have now lost my appetite for the next week at least. Plus you’ve ruined my favourite coat. _Mercy_? Not a chance. Although... I will give you a choice.”

The alien blinked its large eyes, lifting its head hopefully.

“Option one - I take you back to face the justice of your people. I don’t remember the details, but as far as I recall it involves being boiled alive? I rather approve of that, considering what you did. Option two - I hand you over to the Shadow Proclamation. I’m sure they’d be more than happy to get their hands on a member of the notorious Slitheen family, although I do believe the Judoon are not exactly... _careful_ when they extract information. Option three - I kill you now.”

A pause as he studied his captured foe, face expressionless:

“Your choice.”

In the silence that followed Allison could hear nothing except her own heartbeat. Then finally the alien lowered its head.

“Option three.”

The Seeker nodded. 

“As you wish.”

A golden beam singed the air, and the alien collapsed.

(‘Brought up by a hero, a villain and a secret government agent,’ he’d told her once. And this was what they had created...)

Even before the alien’s body hit the ground, the Seeker had turned away and was with swift strides making his way to where Jack’s body lay, before kneeling down beside him, gently cradling his head in his lap.

Allison, shaking with fear or anger or disgust or shock, she wasn’t sure, slowly stood and walked around the barrier, facing the man she had once loved.

“What have you done?” she asked, voice nearly breaking, and he lifted his head, taking in her presence as if having forgotten about her completely.

Then his face softened, a gentle - almost happy - smile spreading across his new features.

“Didn’t I ever tell you? Jack’s immortal. The most incredible wonder in the universe. Just wait, shouldn’t be long.”

Speechless, she could only stare as his eyes once more fastened on Jack, with a level of concentration she didn’t know what to do with. He’d just _executed_ someone in front of her, and he didn’t even think it worth a mention? 

(Would Jack get a new face too, as well as a personality makeover? She felt very small all of a sudden, wondering what she was doing in this world of immortals who dealt in death. She remembered this feeling, and didn't like it.)

A moment, then the Seeker’s smile widened in pure delight, and he reached out, gently laying his hand on Jack’s chest and, as Allison watched (captivated despite herself), a golden glow appeared around his hand - and Jack gasped back to life.

Then he blinked, looking up at the Seeker with confusion.

“Wait, that didn’t hurt...”

The Seeker moved his hand, the golden haze fading, but Jack’s eyes narrowed, as he cautiously sat up.

“Did you-”

The Seeker shrugged.

“Seemed the least I could do, what with killing you and all. I know the laser isn’t exactly gentle...”

“I’m still sure you shouldn’t-” Jack started, before looking around and then noticing that they weren’t alone.

He stared at her for the longest moment, before saying: “Allison?” in a voice so confused that she would have laughed if the circumstances were different.

Then his brow clouded over.

“Hang on...” 

The Seeker laid a hand on his arm.

“I know.” He went silent, then shot Jack an inscrutable look.

“I was thinking about you, actually... Considering where we are.”

His voice dropped as they conferred, and it was all Allison could do not to turn on her heel and run away as fast as her legs could carry her. But she needed to understand what had happened. And why. 

All this time she’d been trying to choose - and this had been her choice? 

Above her head, a ‘daylight’ LED light dimmed, and she hugged herself, trying not to look at the dead bodies littering the floor, yet couldn’t stop herself. They looked like weird overgrown babies, except for how they had three ‘fingers’ on each hand, with what looked like giant nails curving into thick claws. Where had they come from? What had they done? Why had they not merited mercy? Why had her Alex-

She didn’t get further, taking a shaky breath and focussing on the two immortals who appeared to have come to some sort of understanding. 

Although she noticed something odd - Jack had always been a big brother figure, someone Alex turned to for help. Yet there was something... _different_ now in the way they interacted. But then everything about him was different... 

She didn’t get time to ponder the issue any further as Jack nodded to the Seeker and came up to her.

“It's good to see you, Allison,” he said, smiling that perfectly handsome smile.

“You too. I think,” she said cautiously (at least he’d kept the same face - what _was_ he?), and his smile dimmed a little.

“I- Just... All the best,” he finally replied, before walking off, leaving her alone with the Seeker.

The Seeker, who was more of an alien than her Alex had ever been. The Seeker, the Time Lord, who stood victorious amongst the fallen of battle... 

What did it mean? Who was he, now?

“I was wondering,” he eventually said, “would you maybe like to get some coffee?”

“But what about... this?” she asked, indicating the devastation and dead bodies surrounding them, and he shrugged.

“Don’t worry, Jack’ll clear up. But I’m guessing you want answers.”

She nodded; and then found herself walking with him - out of the car park, along roads and into the town proper, where cafés were still open. He didn’t speak, only now and again glancing at her with a strange look she couldn’t gauge - as if trying to puzzle her out, and failing. No attempt at explaining himself. No defensive arguments. Just... nothing. His new handsome profile didn’t give anything away, and she wondered whether she was safe. Yet where could she run? (And he was right, damn him. She wanted - no _needed_ \- answers. Wanted to understand what had happened to him. Why was he... so distant? He'd been like the sun, yet now he seemed as remote as a star in a far away galaxy.)

The world seemed normal. Everything was carrying on as if nothing had happened. Streets and cars and people walking around - as if the one she loved hadn’t died and been replaced by a stranger who was more of an alien than she had ever dreamed possible. Who could kill an enemy at point-blank range without a flicker of emotion...

“This one looks nice,” he said eventually, stopping by a Caffè Nero, and turned to her, waiting for her to respond.

When she didn’t, he took a step away from the door, studying her, confused. The light from the cafe caught his hair and made it shine like polished fire. 

“What is it? Do you want to go somewhere else?”

She shook her head, trying to fight the sudden lump in her throat.

“It’s just... You _died_ , and you didn’t tell me? I know we’ve not really been talking for... a good while, that we agreed _I’d_ contact _you_ , but I thought- Didn’t you think I had a _right_ to know? I- I _care_ about you in case you’d forgotten.”

He was watching her with those cool blue eyes she couldn’t read at all, his face so devoid of emotion that she wondered how this could be the same boy who had laid his hearts and soul in her hands. 

She remembered him remarking - so very long ago it seemed now - how the Doctor could walk through war zones and scenes of mass murder without so much as a hair out of place. Looking at him now, she almost shivered. ‘Not a hair out of place’ indeed, after all the death... After all the killing, at his hand. He hadn’t seemed concerned at all.

“Oh my beautiful Allie,” he said eventually, voice so quiet she barely heard him as he reached up and gently stroked her hair the way someone would a child, the intimate gesture strangely at odds with his closed-off demeanour. 

Then he seemed to catch himself, and let his hand fall away.

“I died more than ten years ago. I was 200 years old at the time, and you had been dead for more than a century. This is not a chance to pick up where we left off - it’s the end of the line.”

As the words sank in, illuminating yet devastating, he pushed the door to the cafe open.

“Do you still want that coffee?”

But his words didn’t register. Nor did anything else, as the whole world seemed to go strangely fuzzy around the edges and then she saw nothing more.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Picture of the 2nd Seeker](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/elisi/4713981/218302/218302_original.jpg)

She woke to a voice gently calling her name.

Slowly opening her eyes, she saw a stranger watching her anxiously, a cautious smile appearing when he caught her eyes. He had a handsome face, although the chin was to reckoned with, and his blue eyes offset the red of his hair in a manner which was quite startling when considered attentively.

Slowly, like mist clearing from a mirror, her mind caught up with what had happened previously, and that it was Alex - the Seeker - who was watching her. And she’d just been staring at him like he was something weird out of a zoo.

Sitting up, taking in the surroundings (she was in a cafe, in a comfy sofa right at the back, mostly unseen by everyone else), she smiled back uncomfortably, embarrassment asserting itself with a vengeance.

“What... happened?” she asked.

“You fainted,” he replied gravely. “When was the last time you had anything to eat?”

The question threw her, and she frowned.

“Um. Lunchtime? I was going to get something when I got here, but I was delayed setting off...”

“That’s a long time ago. And then you had several big shocks to the system. I’m sorry. I didn’t think. It’s been... a very long time since I’ve been around humans, I forget how fragile you can be.” He paused, a furrow between his brows. “But even so. I’m much too blunt this time around - there was no need to tell you like that.”

“OK,” she said, feeling mostly confused by now, and he nodded towards the table in front of them.

“I figured you probably needed food. But I didn’t know what you wanted, so I got a selection.”

Looking at the table she saw three cups (tea, coffee and hot chocolate) and several sandwiches and salads. To one side was a cup of black coffee which she presumed was his. 

“Thank you,” she said, eyeing the rest of the cafe cautiously. “Did you... carry me through?”

“Don’t worry,” he replied, “No one saw a thing. I know you don’t like to be the centre of attention. Not in that way at least. But please - eat.”

Since she was actually hungry she did as she was told, and he sat back quietly; just watching, silently.

She tried to not let it freak her out - but the fact was that he was old enough to be her great-great-great-great-grandfather was not something she found easy to process. Although it _did_ explain the vast difference in temperament and behaviour that had unsettled her so. And the way he looked at her... 

As she emptied the tea cup, feeling more like herself after some food (he was very attentive, albeit in a strange, almost brusque, manner), she had a sudden epiphany and mentally kicked herself for being so slow.

“You know... My whole life, my future,” she said, turning to him, and he merely nodded.

“Yes. But I can’t tell you much. Surely you understand that?”

“Obviously. But, but, just a hint...” ‘The Choice’ was hovering over her again, and he _knew_. “Do we get back together?”

“No.” 

His voice was completely toneless, face unmoving and unknowable.

“No?” she replied, feeling like the ground she had been standing on suddenly vanished beneath her feet and she was falling, falling, falling...

It couldn’t end like this, could it? (She remembered that it had started in a cafe like this one... Kissing for hours, so breathlessly happy and jubilant that it had seemed nothing could ever come between them.)

“You sent me a letter,” he explained gently, “breaking up with me for good. And that was the end.”

She shook her head, refusing to let his words make sense.

“No I didn’t.”

“But you will. Because you did - will have done...” He pulled a face.

“Sorry, English is a terrible language for talking about time. And with tonight’s happenings... How to explain? Well, to use the technical term - we got screwed over by time.”

“We what?”

The Seeker steepled his fingers in front of his chest and looked her straight in the eye, searching for the right words.

“It’s like... _Books_. Everyone’s life is a book. Except you can’t peek at the back, because it’s written as you live it. And your story is part of the greater story of the world, which is part of the story of the universe. And Time Lords... Are the librarians. We keep order, make sure the stories go how they’re supposed to, so the greater story unfolds like it should. And there are certain plot points that must always happen, or the whole thing unravels. Does that make sense?”

“I... suppose so,” she said slowly. This was not what she had expected, and was rather thrown. She was used to him making everything personal - this big picture thing was weird. Although it helped take her mind off the unexpected loss and... other things.

“But how can you tell? How do you know which bits are important? Is it... like handed down, or something?”

“I just _know_. That is - I see it. All of time and space, I mean. All that is... all that was... all that ever could be. Always.”

“Always?” she echoed like some kind of parrot, trying wrap her mind around what he was telling her, and he nodded.

“Since I was eight. But never mind that now. What is important is _your_ story. And the fact that I know it. Which means it is my _duty_ to preserve it.”

“But, but... I’m not going to be pivotal to the history of the world, am I? And you’re a _Time Lord_ , you can change things. You- you brought that boy back to life Christmas before last, and that was a time thing!”

He was taking her choice away from her, hiding behind weird rules that she _knew_ he could break, and she wasn’t going to let it go without a fight. She didn’t care about the Seeker, this stranger who hid his feelings behind an impenetrable wall. But _her_ Alex was still out there, waiting for her...

The Seeker shook his head, before briefly closing his eyes. The lights caught the fire of his hair, and yet when he looked at her he was suddenly _old_ in ways she hadn’t expected. 

“Allison - you are a part of _my_ story. I may be only two hundred and ten, but I am a complicated enough space-time event already for the repercussions of a serious break of my time line to be... _substantial_. You don’t know what you’re asking. I cannot rewrite my own life, no matter how much I wish I could.”

As she didn’t reply, just stared at him silently (hope dropping from her hands - too heavy to carry) he suddenly leaned forward, laying one of his hands on top of hers, and she realised this was the only time he had touched her, except for the kiss...

(That desperate, searing kiss. She understood it now, and wished she didn’t.)

“My Allie... Believe me, this is as bitter for me as it is for you. I thought it was your choice. I never knew - never guessed - that this happened. That the time lines became entangled. Time travel... is a hard mistress. But. Knowing I had a chance... that you might have chosen _me_ , if things were different-” 

For a second she could see through to the pain, his eyes an aching blue ocean. 

“I can’t tell you what that means to me.”

She swallowed, the reality of what was happening beginning to sink in, as he, somewhat awkwardly, moved his hand from hers.

“Do I- do I have a good life?” she asked eventually, trying not to cry. Every word meant defeat, but what else could she do?

“Yes,” he replied, without hesitation. 

It didn’t help. She felt hollow and empty. 

“Allie,” he continued, eyes shuttered again, and the distance helped. This stranger she could be angry with, even as she was starting to mourn the loss of her love. And she should probably be paying attention to what he was saying...

“...this is the point where you have to promise me to _never_ , if you see me, breathe a word about what happened tonight. And you have to write me - past me - a letter breaking up with me for good. It’s all - quite literally - in your hands now. You have the power break time if you so wish it...”

She could see the poetic justice of it, but it was no good. Her eyes were welling up, and he stopped speaking, once more studying her with worry and apprehension.

“I’m being insensitive again, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” she said, fighting the tears back. She would cry - but not _now_ , not on _his_ shoulder. There would be plenty of time for mourning... 

They sat in silence for a moment, neither knowing what to say or do. He was clearly concerned that he was upsetting her, so she cast about for a different topic. Something to talk about that wasn’t _them_ \- or the lack of, rather.

“Um... Can I ask - what happened tonight?”

He frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“Who were those aliens? Why were you chasing them? What did they do?”

(‘Why did you kill them?’ The question unspoken, yet clear.)

“Oh. Right.” He touched his chin (it was a chin to be reckoned with) oddly thrown.

“It was pretty much what you saw. Jack called me, asking for help. He didn’t give any details really, but I knew that if he was calling me and not the Doctor he just wanted who-ever-it was dead, rather than some sort of great rescue mission. It proved a lot tricker than anticipated, unfortunately.” He pulled an unhappy face. “Hate days like this. They’re not frequent, but I could do without them...” 

He stopped, studying her. “Allison?”

At some point his words had stopped making sense, the same sentence going in circles in her head.

“He called _you_ because he wanted them dead...”

Understanding dawned, and he nodded, that terribly cautious look on his face again. Like he was constantly worried about saying the wrong thing, yet unable to help himself. 

“Ah yes. I am sorry. But I was never going to be a hero. You must have known that.” 

Even so it was one thing to know something in the abstract, and something quite different to see it play out in front of your eyes. She could still see him, the dark outline, the cold voice. And she realised what bothered her... It was the fact that he had turned away, as if the death wasn’t even worth witnessing. He had certainly not turned because of the delicacy of his feelings, that she was sure of. It had been less execution, more... extermination of something unpleasant, like a cockroach. She shivered.

“Those aliens... They were... _people_ , right?”

“Yes,” he replied. 

“But you just...”

“Killed them, yes.” He tilted his head, choosing his words carefully as he continued. “I’m a Time Lord. Sometimes drastic actions are part of my responsibilities. I don’t enjoy it, but I can’t say I’m sorry that they’re dead, or that I killed them. The universe is definitely better off with fewer of them around.”

Matter-of-fact. Unapologetic. Hard facts, and no cushioning. Maybe he didn’t know how.

She was used to him being all smooth manipulation (except for major arguments), adapting himself to every situation, and every person. The change was bewildering, and yet, this was obviously her one and only opportunity to get _answers_. To find out what kind of person her Alex had grown into. 

“Your weapon...” she began, not knowing how to formulate the question, or even what she was asking - but he merely looked resigned and reached into his inside pocked, bringing out the deadly brushed-metal object he’d used earlier.

“This was my father’s. He gave it to me when I turned eight, and for years and years I just kept it hidden away. But I started carrying it after I regenerated, because...”

He hesitated, and she pressed her advantage. She’d loved who he was, she wanted to understand why he’d changed so much, even if it hurt. I couldn’t just be the new face. 

“Because?”

“Because of how I died.”

“And?” she prompted. She’d not given much thought to _how_ he had come by his new face, and his extreme reluctance made her suddenly curious. And he’d _died_... Her beautiful Alex. Knowing _how_ was vitally important all of a sudden, even though the man in front of her seemed exceedingly unwilling to share.

“I... don’t like talking about it. But here goes, I suppose. It was yet another idiot alien trying to destroy the world, and the Doctor had roped me in to help. Except in the end the only way to stop the bad guy was to kill him. And as I had no weapon to hand, the only way to kill him was to physically pull him into a force field - which killed me too.”

She turned it over in her head, and came to the only logical conclusion:

“You mean... you died saving the world?”

He waved her words away, uncomfortable. “Not important. I mean, yes I did, but I was mostly annoyed at losing a life, all because I wasn’t armed. Hence this. It’s a laser screwdriver by the way, so has endless applications - I don’t use it for killing very often.”

As he spoke, a strange truth dawned on her. The boy she had known might have worn his father’s face - and there had certainly been uneasy flashes - but he’d also distanced himself from his heritage as much as he could.

But this new one... The coat might be a touch pirate-like, but even so the style wouldn’t have looked out of place on Harold Saxon. And the rest of his clothing had that sharp and cool look that was slightly too controlled and expensive to be entirely comfortable. 

“What are you thinking?” he asked as she’d gone completely silent, and she shook her head. 

“Just... the last time I met you, at graduation, you were... _furious_ with your father. Distancing yourself from him completely. And now...” She waved her hands, trying to encompass the smooth elegance in front of her, “you are _so_ much like him.”

He didn’t deny it, just nodded thoughtfully.

“Not insane or evil, nor interested in world domination - much to his continued disappointment - but yes, I’m my father’s son. Took me a couple of centuries to make peace with it, but I couldn’t hide forever.”

Recalling graduation, she was struck by another thing that had stuck out at the time, and as this was probably her last chance to get an answer, she decided to ask immediately, never mind that it was a huge leap in topic.

“Adelaide. What’s so special about her?”

A slow light seemed to ignite in his eyes, and then a bright smile blossomed on his face. He had been so very serious until now (even the smiles had somehow been serious), that she had not really noticed his looks, except in how not-Alex they were. Suddenly she could see how he - under other circumstances - could probably be exceptionally charming. Not her type (too angular, too ginger), but...

“Will you let me show you?” he asked. “It’ll count as a spoiler, but... I think you deserve it.”

“Show me what?”

He held out his hand.

“History being made.”

One last adventure... How could she say no?

Which was how she found herself onboard his ship again (the same as she remembered, although more worn), and before she knew what was happening they were landing somewhere dusty red and... empty.

“I’ve never been here,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “The Doctor must have been, although...” his eyes narrowed, “I can’t see him. I know he went to see the Moon landing four times - _at least_ \- so he can’t possibly not be here. Ah well, he’s probably hiding like us...”

“And are you going to tell me where ‘here’ is?” she asked, although she had an inkling. 

“Mars. 2041. And... just wait for it.”

They watched in shared silence as a vessel broke through the skies, before landing, the impact shaking the ground and causing huge clouds of dust to rise. Eventually a door opened and an astronaut stepped out, before descending the steps, flag in hand. (Union Jack, Allison noted with great pride.)

 _“That,”_ the Seeker breathed, “is Adelaide Brooke.”

Torn between looking at her guide, and the events unfolding, Allison made a noise that hopefully communicated her appreciation. The Seeker nodded.

“You know how I said that people are like books? Some are more widely known and read than others, and only very few last. But there are a some - a mere handful - which echo down the ages, millennia after millennia. And Adelaide is amongst those. Like Neil Armstrong and Captain Cook and Cleopatra all wrapped up into one. She is the first human being to set foot on Mars. And she’ll be back in 2058, the founder of the first Mars colony. What makes her remarkable isn’t just that she makes it, but that she’s the one who puts herself here. She wasn’t chosen, she chose herself. She is like... the human capacity for achievement, contained in a single person.”

She marvelled, watching the figure in the distance. She remembered Adelaide talking about wanting to achieve this, but to _see_ it...

“Why are you telling me this? Is this not, like, classified?”

He turned to her.

“Because you are a part of her story - and vice versa. She is the poster girl - it is her drive and vision that bring her here. But she could never have done it on her own. _You_ are one of the main people behind her.”

“Me?”

“You’re not the one in all the news headlines, but behind the scenes... everyone knows your name.”

She suddenly felt like she couldn’t breathe. He’d torn down one half of her dreams, but he was giving her something else in return... Something solid and real and too amazing for words.

“Doesn’t telling me... constitute some sort of breach of rules? Should I know my own story?”

Ignoring the historic events unfolding, he reached out and gently cradled her cheek. The touch made her shiver - he was so hands-off his interactions almost felt like a brush-off, so this moment of contact had to be special.

“I figure you probably need something to hold onto. There is a red planet in your future, it just isn’t mine... And besides, I don’t think it’s a huge shock to you that you’ll be successful in your chosen career. You’re brilliant, and you know it. Like me.”

He had a point. She’d been attracted to his brilliance right from the start. Attracted, and somewhat jealous.

Then his eyes narrowed a fraction, and she could sense that his focus had changed.

“Do you want a go? As in - would you like to walk on Mars also? Considering your future is bound to this place, it seems a shame that you never get here properly. We could jump back some years and have a little stroll?”

“But won’t that... change something? If Adelaide is the first?”

(She felt like a stuck record, but he kept surprising her. He’d insisted on saying _nothing at all_ and then threw stuff at her she wasn’t prepared for.)

“No one will know, which means history won’t care. _Trust me_ , I’m a Time Lord. We’ll be fine.”

***

She remembered for the rest of her life the almost dreamlike sensation she experienced. The space suit was a lot sleeker (and more comfortable) than the one Adelaide had been wearing, and the view stunning. He took her to a _tholus_ \- the Martian term for an isolated, dome-shaped small mountain or hill - and they could see for miles and miles.

(Only several years later did she understand why he had chosen that _particular_ tholus, and laughed as realisation hit, the ouroboros of time asserting itself.)

Most of all, she remembered how... empty it was. How unutterably peaceful. Clear lines wherever she looked. She’d been all around the world, yet there had always been the knowledge that if you continued far enough there would be people somewhere, human life embedded from the deepest rain forests to the coldest ends of the earth. But Mars was extraordinary in its solitude. 

A chance to do things _right_.

To be the _first_.

A whole world of opportunity and newness, and _she_ would be one of the people to make it happen.

The rust-coloured ground beneath her feet fell away below, becoming craters and mountains and canyons - all _new_ , all never seen by a human before _she_ had arrived. 

She knew exactly why Adelaide pushed herself.

Knew why she would help.

Somehow - by intuition or luck - he’d helped her find the answer she had always been looking for, and it didn’t matter what the question was.

(It was wonderful to be transported so easily to any point. But to do it _yourself_ \- to create and build and make it all happen by your own effort... How much more rewarding.)

***

When they returned to his ship she was almost itching to get back to her life, and yet... It would be the final goodbye. An irreversible break with what could-have-been, and now never-would-be. He wasn’t her Alex, but he was the last link, and once he was gone that would be it....

“Is this what you do?” she asked once she was out of the spacesuit, and he was storing everything away. “Travel, see history unfold?”

He shook his head.

“Sometimes, but that’s more the Doctor’s thing. I tend to spend most of my time building. Creating and re-creating. Recovering lost knowledge, and discovering new things. Although my current project is a little more ambitious - I’m trying to work out how to create a matrix.” 

He smiled, excitement taking over.

“Well, it’s still very much in the planning stage. So far all I’ve made is a tiny model that might as well be made of cardboard and sticky-backed plastic, but it’s a start. And it’ll probably take me decades to even begin to construct the real thing - but I have time.”

“A Matrix... I’m presuming you’re not talking about Keanu Reeves here.”

He began explaining, but - although she got the general gist - the technicalities lost her. (‘This must be how other people feel when I’m talking,’ she thought.) 

“Can I see the model?” she asked eventually.

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

“Sure. Of course.”

She wondered at the reluctance, but didn't know how to address it - and anyway he was already making his way back to the front of the ship, settling in the captain’s chair. The sharp interior suited him, she thought, and he seemed to take it for granted, unlike the first time, when he’d practically been bursting with delight. Which reminded her...

“Last time I was here... on your ship, I mean... you said that what you did - the thing that got you sent to Cambridge, the thing they confiscated the ship for - was stupid and dangerous and nearly got you killed. But you never said what it actually _was_.”

He turned, the chair swivelling round to face her, as he studied her with barely concealed amusement.

“You want _that_ story?”

“As you refused to ever tell me, yes. Besides, without that occurrence, we would never have met.”

He chuckled and reached out, flicking a switch, before meeting her eyes again. 

“As you wish. But I dare say it won’t be what you expect.”


	34. Chapter 34

“It was my eighteenth birthday, and I’d been given the best gift ever. I’m not sure how to explain it, really... I’d had my teleport pendant for two years by then, but that was very much a practical thing. I used it for travelling between my planet and Earth, juggling my A-Levels with world building, constantly mindful of every second. And then suddenly - freedom. Not just a spaceship, but one that could travel in time. And it was _mine_. I thought I’d explode from joy. Anywhere, anywhen, at my fingertips...”

There were green leaves outlined against an orange sky above her head, and Allison had to fight against the urge to pinch herself. And yet... Being on his planet again had brought home on a whole different level just how much time had passed for him. The tree they were sitting under was the self-same cutting her mother had given him for Christmas a few years ago - it was now a fitting centre for his garden, its bulk wide and solid as she leaned against it. 

Not that she’d thought he was lying, but the tree was _real_ in a way she could measure and understand more easily than a new face. Maybe that’s why he’d brought her here again... Or maybe he just felt unsettled, and wanted somewhere familiar to ground himself. Although while counting up 'things that had changed', his whole attitude to having her as a visitor was now completely different. Last time he had been eager to show off, the whole place exciting and still a work in progress (much like himself she supposed) - by now he barely gave the incredible surroundings a second glance. 

She realised that she had zoned out, and he was studying her, blue eyes waiting for her to focus. 

“You with me? You’re the one that wanted the story, so you better pay attention, cause I’m not telling it twice.”

The hint of reproach was unwelcome, and made her feel very young. It wasn’t a nice feeling. Especially as she could almost pretend that he was only a few years older than her, if she only focussed on his face. 

“Yes, I’m listening,” she replied. “It’s just strange being back here.”

His eyes flickered momentarily, then he continued his story, as if nothing had happened. Although she could guess that it was far stranger for him... 

“I took Jack with me on the maiden voyage. As I was trying to decide where to go first, he stopped me. 'I’ve not given you your present yet,' he said. We were all alone, hanging above Earth, the Milky Way spread out in front of us... I remember it so clearly still. I had just about finished school, and my whole life was in front of me, ready to be picked up and lived. Everything was bright and wonderful and I was _free_.”

A soft sigh, so quiet she almost didn’t hear it over the rustle in the tree above them. Some sort of small bird peeked out, then disappeared again.

“I was so young. So very, very young... I had no idea. Anyway, Jack’s present was not so much a ‘thing’ as an... _experience_.”

The previous hint of amusement was once more colouring his voice, and she shot him a sharp look. She found him very difficult to read, and it made things difficult.

“What do you mean? Stop being so cryptic!”

A droll look, impossible to misunderstand:

“It was _Jack_. What do you _think_ he got me?”

Before she could answer (he’d vehemently denied anything ever happening between them, so she wasn’t sure what he was getting at), he swiftly carried on:

“You remember Inara on Firefly, and the whole idea of specially trained ‘companions’ - people skilled in pleasure? Well, people like that are perfectly real. Except they’re not all human... It’s a weird and wonderful universe out there, and most species have some way or other of transmitting physical - or mental - bliss. And some make a living out of their talents. Jack’s present was a visit to one of these places. The best one, according to him, and well, who’d argue? I’d been less than interested in sex - had barely kissed anyone, except a date once for a prom. I think. It certainly hadn’t left any kind of impression. Being a Time Lord, I didn’t have any of the involuntary physical urges of the average human teenager (much to my relief), and besides I didn’t have time for a relationship. But I knew Jack liked sex very much, so there had to be something to it - and if I could try it, I could cross it off my list, as it were, and not worry about it again.”

He stopped at the look on her face, and she shook her head, their surroundings by now forgotten:

“Cross it off your list?”

He smiled, but there was a sadness in his eyes.

“Like I said, I was young. I thought of it as a particular kind of pleasure, and nothing more. Had no idea about the difference between sex and lovemaking... _You_ taught me that.”

Her throat was suddenly feeling too tight, and he swiftly carried on, his eyes focussing on a spectacular bush-like thing with silver leaves and trailing blue flowers.

“Anyway, I said yes and please and thank you, and Jack gave me the co-ordinates. It was a beautiful place, cocooned in a special kind of lock, so you needed passwords and things to get in. It was all very discreet and exciting, and I felt terribly grown-up. I think Jack might even have said ‘I give you the boy, bring me back the man’ when he handed me over.” A soft chuckle. “He is a walking cliché - which is of course one reason I love him so.”

Frowning at the blue flowers, he shook his head, before slowly turning and catching her eyes again. She hoped he wasn’t waiting for a reply, because she didn’t have a clue what to say. Thankfully he just kept talking.

“So, this is where it gets... complicated. First of all, they asked me what I wanted. And I said... ‘Everything’. Because I am me, and I wanted everything I could get. Like - oh, like when I did all those drugs, remember? And ended up sitting on the Red Lion, getting everyone to sing? Same sort of deal, except...”

He tilted his head, clearly trying to work out which way to best describe what he was trying to explain.

“When I said they weren’t human, I really mean that. Different species experience pleasure in different ways. And they catered for _everyone_. The ‘everything’ I asked for was so much more than you can imagine, and they weren’t happy. I told them I was a Time Lord, that I was practically immortal, but even so I had to sign at least half a dozen legal document to ensure I couldn’t sue them in case anything happened to me. Which was understandable...”

“O...K,” she said slowly, slightly confused, and he suddenly bit his lip, eyes dancing.

“Do you remember that time at NASA?” A swift dart of his eyes. “Sorry, I’m stupid, of course you do. Now imagine _that_ feeling in every single cell of your body - every sense straining to breaking point with sheer, undiluted pleasure. A thousand, thousand touches, each eliciting sensations impossible to explain; sound and taste and vision and scent all overwhelmed; every strand of your mind being played upon, like an instrument, vibrating down to the core of your being... I’m not explaining it very well I’m afraid, but it was utterly incredible and - it almost killed me. Took me a few days before I could even use my legs. Jack was there when I came to, telling me I was an idiot and that I’d destroyed his bank balance for the next millenia (‘everything’ don’t come cheap), but he was also proud, I think. Or at least impressed.”

She was nearly speechless at this confession - yet she eventually managed to find her voice:

“You nearly died. From _sex_?”

That laughter again.

“Sex is a _hopelessly_ inadequate word, but essentially - yes. I’m sure you understand why I never told you back then? Apart from the whole alien thing, of course. I... didn’t quite see the funny side then. Mostly because of the aftermath. Because oh, there was an aftermath...”

His mood shifted, the laughter replaced by something that wasn’t quite anger - more like an old echo of an unhappy memory, shadows of the past causing his brow to draw together.

“When we left the protective shield, my controls suddenly didn’t work. And before I knew it, my ship had been dragged to a nearby asteroid - dull and empty, but with enough of an atmosphere and gravity to breathe and stand upright. My father and the Doctor were waiting for us. It was, to say the least, a most unpleasant way to find out they’d put a tracker in the ship. I thought I’d been free, but they didn’t trust me at all - still keeping tabs. I was _furious_. As were they... Although at first they directed it all at Jack.”

He shot her a serious look. The two suns were causing the leaves overhead to cast multiple shadows across his face, every shade duplicated. Like him. The same, yet only overlapping partially.

“Now you must understand, that when I say I was young, I was still very much a child by Time Lord standards. Smarter, and more... _aware_ than any human my age, but many, _many_ years away from being an adult. To give you an idea of the scale, imagine if someone had taken your little niece - what’s her name, Ronia? - to a hardcore porn shop, or a live sex show. The Doctor was utterly livid because Jack had destroyed my innocence (he might have used the words ‘cheap whores’ which wasn’t just hugely offensive but also factually incorrect) - and my father was livid because if anyone was going to destroy my innocence it should be _him_ , not Jack...”

A sigh.

“I’d always avoided arguments, and I avoided them even more after that. But on that day I decided that I wasn’t going to budge or compromise. As you know, I get very stubborn. I’d just had the most incredible, mindblowing experience of my life and they were turning it into something sordid and wrong, intruding into my personal, private life in ways they had no right to. Of course I later understood some of the concerns... Having such a deep and all-encompassing experience as my very first sexual experience affected me far more than I realised. You had a taste of it, that day at NASA. Josh and Jamie got the full blast...”

A pensive moment, as he looked out into the garden again. A soft breeze played with his hair, and she once more wondered how he could have turned into someone so _severe_ looking. There seemed so very, very little left of the playful boy she remembered. Or maybe this had always been hidden inside? He’d lied to her for so long, and so thoroughly... How well had she known him?

“I didn’t know how to separate anything... Wasn’t aware that whatever natural barriers my mind might once have had were no longer there, so if I ever did anything using my _mind_ and not just my body... It all bled together. Of course the Doctor didn’t actually explain any of this, he was just angry and deeply uncomfortable and embarrassed. Did his whole ‘I am older and I know better’ routine which sets _any_ youngster’s teeth on edge. Also it didn’t help that they blamed Jack, deciding that he’d ‘led me astray’ and I didn’t understand what I’d done. Of course they were right - I _didn’t_ have a clue as to any of the consequences - but that was entirely beside the point. I was angry about how they dismissed me, and told them that I was old enough to make my own decisions - if they wanted to hold anyone accountable, it should be me, not Jack. _He_ was honest with me, not sneaking behind my back, spying. It all sort of went downhill from there... The upshoot was that I declared that if I couldn’t use my ship as I wanted, what was the point of me having it at all? To which the Doctor said that in that case they might as well confiscate it and put me somewhere I could think things over in peace and quiet. And thus - Cambridge. For three years. They figured that would probably be long enough for me to learn something about standing on my own feet, and responsibility and so forth.”

An insect settled on Allison’s knee, shimmering in all the colours of the rainbow. Simple and beautiful, without a care... It was strange, knowing the story. She'd thought it'd help, but it didn't change a thing, really. Or maybe she only felt like that because it was all now in the past. 

“They didn’t see you coming. Heck, the Doctor was _thrilled_ when he first found out I was seeing someone, as I’m sure you remember? Never thought how hurt or damaged we might get. I suppose he was mostly considering how I’d learn something about love and relationships. Which I did...”

One of the suns was now setting, one half of the duplicate shadows lengthening. The Seeker reached out and took her hand, and she was shocked at the sudden touch. His hand was cool, his grip light, yet she could tell how much it was costing him.

“Meeting the love of your life when you’re eighteen isn’t a very good idea. Well, it’s... complicated. I don’t think the Doctor had a clue - and anyway, he’s forever picking up new strays when he’s left the old ones behind... I was never like that, and he didn’t realise. Maybe you imprinted on me, or something, but there was only ever you.”

Two hundred years... And only her? She looked into blue eyes and could almost fool herself into thinking they were brown.

“There’s never been anyone else?”

He shook his head.

“I never let myself love again. I only had you for a few years, but losing you hurt too much to risk it again. Besides, there’s something else... Come with me?”

He stood, pulling her up with him and then led her through winding paths to a sheltered, mostly hidden, part of the garden. She marvelled at how much it had changed - not that two hundred years wasn't plenty of time, but she was sure the whole layout was different to what it had been before. She had seen her mother pore over enough garden designs to notice. And the garden was... she struggled to put her finger on it, but ‘human’ was the best approximation. She recalled it being all circles before, but now the order was more like something in a stately home, if more artistic. The 'artistic' part being another puzzle - the garden was far too whimsical to have been designed by him.

Then he stopped, and she realised where he’d led her. By the wall, surrounded by impeccably tended rose buses, was a gravestone, bearing his mother’s name...

“I brought her here, when she got older. My father... didn’t know what to do. I think he loved her, in his own, strange way - but he only knows how to break things, how to dominate. Being involved with someone of a different species is difficult enough, but there is a reason he’s always broken his toys in the past, a reason the Doctor leaves everyone behind - human decay and death, it is...” 

His brow furrowed, and she thought he might be speaking more to himself than to her.

“... unnatural, to us. As strange and alien as I suspect regeneration is to you. But she was my mother, and I did what any son would do - looked after her, until the end. I think she was happy here. She redesigned the whole garden in her last years, creating this legacy of beauty. Maybe it was her way of atoning... Still. Watching her, caring for her-”

He closed his eyes, and for a moment bowed his head, as Allison waited for what was coming.

“-it made me grateful that you left. It was hard enough to watch my mother die, but imagining it happening to _you_...”

He swallowed, and when he turned to her, his blue eyes were once more unshielded, the emotion they held staggering.

“I don’t know how I would have coped. I my mind you are always young, always bright and wonderful and happy, so full of potential and vision. You gave me that legacy to hold onto, and I want to thank you for that. If that’s selfish of me, I’m sorry. But I’m trying to be honest with you - never thought I’d have the chance.”

Maybe it was due to the impossibility of their situation; the fact that there could never have been a solution - that love could have hurt him _more_ than leaving. Maybe it was another glimpse of the boy she’d loved revealed in the man beside her. Maybe the realisation, bonedeep and final, that she really had lost him... Whatever the cause, the result was the same.

Impulsively she stepped closer, put her hands on his face - and kissed him.

For a second he froze in surprise; but then he leaned into the kiss, gently wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer. His lips were cool and soft, and she could feel a tremor running through him as he deepened the kiss...

When they finally pulled apart, he cupped her face with both hands, searching her eyes.

“Stay with me,” he said, voice barely above a breath. “A day, a week, a month - you have _time_ , now. I could even-”

“No,” she cut him off. Not moving away, but shaking her head firmly. She couldn’t do this. “You’re not - you’re not _him_. And I have a life to get back to - most specifically a symposium.”

His eyes shuttered again, like a light being extinguished.

“Of course. I’m sorry. Rassilon knows I’m old enough not to be so foolish. Follow me, I can transmat you back.”

Feeling oddly shell-shocked, although she wasn’t quite sure why, she let him lead her back into the house, through semi-circuitous routes ending up in the centre. It was a different path to the one taken earlier on, or at least she thought so - it was hard to be sure. The building was a maze, although a thoroughly furnished and lived-in maze. Through open doors she - as before - glimpsed rooms and spaces, no longer empty or with basic IKEA-like furniture, but eclectic and old enough to warrant two hundred years of existence... She was sure most items (like the giant rug she spotted in a large sitting room) came with their own story. Stories she would never know, as this was when their paths diverged. 

(He remembered her as _young_ , clearly he wasn’t going to pop by on a regular basis once she’d broken up with him.)

When they reached the central room he motioned towards an empty space by the wall.

“Please stand on that black square?” he asked. “I need to calibrate everything quite carefully so the timing’s correct, and your exact details are important.”

She stood still, watching him traipse back and forth between different consoles pressing buttons and typing commands; now and again consulting his watch, or stopping to calibrate something in his mind.

The changes to this room - the hub around which everything else turned - were less pronounced, although there were more instruments, and the workbenches had neat piles to overflowing. And the arched doorway in the very centre now led to a tower, just like he’d planned back then. He’d taken her up there when they’d landed, the view being spectacular although somewhat vertiginous. From their vantage point he’d pointed out other, newer buildings, explaining what they contained, and what work he’d been doing. She understood enough to understand how complex it was - how little need he had of her when it came to his life’s work. 

It was all too late now, of course, but could there ever have been a way to make it work? To bridge the chasm between their worlds, where one of them would die, and the other be re-born...

Then she was distracted by the images she could glimpse on the screen nearest to her - they very clearly showed the car park where she had parked earlier in the evening (how long had it been - two, three hours? Seemed so much longer) and she couldn’t stop herself asking what he was doing. He looked up, apparently surprised at the interruption, yet explained readily enough:

“I’m going to send you back to where you were, but at a point in time after the fight and Torchwood’s cleanup. It’s rather a complex thing, as Torchwood has already been busy wiping the CCTV footage. Not that I can’t detect what they’ve done, and where, but it’s just taking that bit longer - keeping links open over two centuries is annoyingly awkward.”

She nodded. As a plan that made sense, although...

“Right. But can’t you just... I dunno, call Jack and find out where people are and when?”

This lengthening of their goodbye wasn’t doing her any good. He had something to focus on. She didn’t. 

Turning away from the consoles completely, he hesitated.

“Not really, it’s... complicated.” 

She didn’t reply, and he - momentarily hesitating for reasons she didn’t understand immediately - began elaborating.

“ _My_ Jack - the one I came with, whom I’m presuming is more or less linear with me - will have alerted Torchwood, the current Torchwood that is. Probably without revealing who he is - there is a standard code for ‘Clean up operation needed’, they might think it’s the police that’s called them. And whilst the team - and current Jack - are out, my Jack will have gone to ‘borrow’ Ianto for a while.”

It took her a moment to process what he was getting at, after which she must have made some sort of indication to show that she got it, as he tilted his head, smiling that sad, but very shielded smile he’d worn a lot.

“Yes, we’re both visiting the past tonight. Must be greater gluttons for punishment that I thought...”

Avoiding her eyes, he once more focussed on his instruments, and she tried to hold onto her emotions. If she started crying now... No, she couldn’t let herself. It would just make everything worse.

Then all of a sudden everything was ready - except her. Because this was the end, this was where it all stopped. Screwed over by time, the life they might have had just... stolen away and gone. Vanished in a puff of possible paradoxes and time that couldn’t be rewritten.

He surveyed everything one last time, then layed a hand on a switch before catching her eyes.

“One last thing - if you ever need me, just call. I’m always here.”

The irony didn’t pass her by, and she took a deep breath. This was it.

“Goodbye,” she said, and he swallowed. She knew she would always remember him the way he was now. The hair like fire, the sharp, stylish cut of the coat, the cool exterior, belied by the hidden pain in his eyes.

“Goodbye my love.”

It was more of a whisper, the softest of echoes in her ears as the world turned to white-out.

A moment later she found herself in the selfsame spot she had occupied when she first arrived. The rented car was next to her, the lighting was still dim, the concrete barriers still blocking movement and visibility.

As if in a dream she sorted out a ticket for the car, fetched her bag and set off towards the symposium. 

She carried her future in her hands, and she was going to be brilliant, that part she had no doubt about. And tonight was the beginning - she would turn some heads, make them take notice, make sure they remembered her. She could finally commit, even if it felt like half of her was dying. 

(She had lived with a broken heart for a long time. She knew how to cope. Knew how to shine when the pain threatened to overwhelm her. She’d been standing on Mars but a few hours earlier. She’d be goddamn _inspirational_ tonight.)

Walking through the streets, she looked up at the dark sky. She could hardly see the stars from where she was, but she knew they were there. Like him...

Since she was tiny she had looked up at the skies, intrigued. Was it any wonder that she had fallen in love with a boy from the stars? Was it any wonder that he had - in the end - proved as elusive as they?

Would she spend her whole life looking up, remembering her golden boy ? Would she become like him... Singular, but lonely? The two of them forever separated by time and space, torn apart by random events - the Time Lord defeated by time itself. She felt angry and hurt and helpless; forced into accepting choices she wasn't sure she would have made, one final question in her mind.

Would she ever see him again?

 

(If you want to know how the Seeker coped with losing Allison for the second time, please read [Timely Lovers](http://archiveofourown.org/works/549376/chapters/978644).)


	35. Chapter 35

_Spring 2044, early morning_

"Mummy - do mushrooms smell like fairies' bottoms?"

Allison looked up from her pad and into her four year old daughter's bright quizzical eyes, and - for what had to be the millionth time - wondered where on earth she had sprung from. Well, of course she _knew_ (being pregnant and giving birth being pretty unequivocal), but Emily might as well have been beamed down from Mars. (Except Mars had been all empty...) Emily - as far as Allison could work out - didn't have a scientific bone in her body. Emily disliked numbers, and anything to do with facts or logic. Instead Emily loved rainbows and fairies and unicorns and magic and had a mind that effortlessly inserted any or all of these factors into everyday life. She plain refused to believe that stars were made of burning gas, as The Lion King said that they were old kings, and that made _much more sense._

Wondering how to answer this latest question (she had thought she'd been so _prepared_ for motherhood, never guessing that her child would be the source of never-ending impossible-to-answer queries), she plumped for the easiest way out.

"Ask Daddy," she said, her spirit sinking as Emily shook her head, curls dancing. (The curls were another mystery - and one that was a perpetual nightmare. Allison had once thought curls something pretty. Now they meant a screaming child every time she brought out a hair brush.)

"Daddy said to ask you!"

To Allison's immense relief, she was then - quite literally - saved by the bell, as the doorbell rang.

"Go see who's at the door!" she said, and Emily - forgetting her question - skipped out to the front door, happily sing-song-ing: "Who's at the doo-or? Who's at the doo-or?"

Trying to refocus on her morning emails, Allison was immediately interrupted again by Emily yelling: "It's a parcel for youuuuuuuuu Mummy!" at the top of her voice.

Making her way to the door, she realised that it was a new delivery guy, who was studying her with a small frown.

"The parcel needs to be signed for by Doctor Starbeck," he said cautiously.

"That would be _me_ ," she said frostily, signing his electronic device, before carrying the parcel through to the front room, nearly tripping over Andrew’s shoes, silently vowing to throw them at his head. What was it about (human) males that made them incapable of putting their things away? Shoes especially. And all the while she had Emily dancing around her, eaten up with curiosity.

"Is it for me? Is it fairy dust? I told you I wanted fairy dust for my birthday, remember? Can I help you open it?"

"It is ages until your birthday, and no it isn't fairy dust. Feel how heavy it is, fairy dust is light."

"Noooo, fairy dust is very heavy, because it is full of _the hopes and dreams of little children."_

Emily's voice went all low with sheer importance, and Allison closed her eyes, before refocussing on the child in front of her, and the fact that she wasn’t actually properly dressed.

"Emily, why are you not wearing your school tie? Or your socks? Or your cardigan?"

"Couldn't find ‘em!"

(Deep breath. Count to ten. Don’t yell, it never helps.)

"You are leaving _in ten minutes_. Go. Find. Ask Daddy for help if you need it."

Emily opened her mouth, took in the look on her mother's face, and then with an exaggerated scowl turned and walked upstairs. (She knew that Daddy had far more patience than Mummy...)

Yet as she settled down to open her delivery, Allison caught sight of the giant birthday card-cum-picture Emily had made for her birthday a couple of months ago, and shook her head fondly. Thirty seven ants, of varying colours and sizes, populated the paper, with ‘Happy Birthday Mummy’ written in the middle, half the letters back to front. Emily had carefully explained that she had made Daddy count the ants (twice!) to make sure there was the right number (“Because you are _soooo fussy_ about numbers Mummy!”) and that she had drawn ants because she knew Allison liked them: “Cause of how organised they are.” 

It all tied back to ‘The Ant Speech’ which people still talked about nearly six years later, although ‘speech’ was misleading - it had been more of a rant, an improvised dressing down of several NASA departments, at a point when everything and everyone seemed to be dragging their feet and making the first manned mission to Mars miss the deadline in Allison’s head. (She’d _seen_ Adelaide step onto Mars in 2041, she _knew_ it had to happen on a specific time frame, and people kept making excuses she had no use for.) 

“If _ants_ were were working on this project, we would have been on Mars _decades_ ago! And we are supposed to be _smarter_ than them! We have imagination and innovation, we can think outside the given parameters, we can accomplish goddamn _miracles_ if we try. However - if you can’t do that, if the brightest people _in the world_ can’t manage that, then at least give me ant-like efficiency and organisation. Am I making myself clear?” 

After that people began ascribing her meteoric rise at NASA to her being ‘brilliant and _terrifying_ ’. She could live with that. Especially since everyone went above and beyond from that point on. Adelaide had the vision and the forward drive; was the carrier of the bright flame that lit the path and guided everyone forward. But Allison was the one who gave everyone a swift kick up the backside when they got complacent. The two of them were now - by those in the know - collectively known as ‘Starbeck and Brooke’. (Allison first because anyone who wanted to get to Adelaide had to go through her first...)

Of course - since she could have hundreds of people snapping to attention quite simply by glowering - it from then followed that she was defeated by a single small child, who had effortlessly upended her life in ways she’d never expected. Yet every time she caught sight of the picture (any of Emily's pictures really, but this one especially), her heart melted all over again. Her angry rant, translated into a multicoloured rainbow of smiling insects, some with hats or shoes or bags or umbrellas - she might not understand her daughter one iota, but she appreciated her crazy little mind more than she could express. 

Ten minutes later the tie and socks (as well as a missing shoe and her school bag) had been found, Allison had unwrapped her delivery and tackled 9 emails (out of 75 - how had that happened since last night? How did it happen _every_ night?) and Andrew smiled smugly as he pulled on his jacket.

“See how a middle-aged man continually triumphs where his genius hot young wife fails?”

Her eyes narrowed. There was still the question of throwing his shoes at him, although he might be redeeming himself...

“Middle-aged?”

“As I keep reminding you, there are but a few months until the big five-oh. I’m expecting comfy slippers and cardigans and a new shed. And a pipe.”

He’d been playing this game for a good while now - some sort of backwards male logic she supposed, trying to reassure himself... He’d not flinched at turning forty, but obviously fifty was bothering him. Time to take charge.

“Dream on darling. I’ve made an executive decision, and you’re not going the corduroy and hairy ears route, you’re going to be a silver fox!”

Reaching up, she fondly ruffled his rapidly greying hair.

“You’re well on the way, so all you need is a new wardrobe, a proper haircut, and - Emily! _Shoes! Now!_ \- possibly a few sessions down the gym.”

“A silver fox?” he echoed, thrown, but pleased, and she pulled him closer.

“I can be your genius trophy wife.”

“That actually sounds like a plan. Although I’m keeping my tweed jacket. The kids at school wouldn’t recognise me otherwise.”

As he wrapped his arms around her, she let her eyes narrow.

“Hmmm. I might be willing to negotiate.”

Before they got any further, they were interrupted by Emily.

“No! No snogging! Stoooop!” she shouted, avidly trying to separate them, and the ‘snog’ was indeed averted by giggling. (She’d throw his shoes at him tonight. Not wearing them would also make it somewhat easier.)

Glancing at his watch, Andrew startled:

“Christ! Is that the time? Emily - we gotta run!” 

“Have a good day,” Allison called after them. “And don’t forget to buy milk!”

(He’d forget. He always forgot. Allison had vague memories of a time when her life had run smoothly, and practical issues - shopping, cooking, cleaning - had been taken care of without her having to do a thing, but it was such a long time ago now that it might as well have been a dream. A golden dream of another - impossible - life.)

Allison had already turned away - door half closed and mind busy focussing on the conference-by-Skype she had scheduled later on in the day - when she heard the abrupt screech of tyres and a sickening sound she would remember for the rest of her life.

Rushing to the gate, her eyes refused to take in what she was seeing.

A car, skidded to a halt across the road, the driver - a youngster, pale and shaking - repeating over and over: "I didn't see her. I swear I didn't see her..."

And Andrew by the side of their Emily, his hands covered in blood, looking at her with the kind of fear and despair she'd only ever seen on news reports on the TV.

"Al! Call an ambulance!"

After that things became a blur.

She must have called 999, because an ambulance arrived, and there were paramedics talking to her, trying to comfort her and get specific details, followed by a journey to A&E and an interminable wait where time seemed to have no meaning at all. At one point she was aware of Ella arriving, asking whom she needed to contact, what she could do, but Allison just held onto Andrew's hand and shook her head. 

"She's in shock," Andrew explained, but Allison frowned.

"If I was in shock I'd have a blanket, wouldn't I?"

Eventually a doctor turned up, saying that they'd done all they could, and now it was a case of waiting and seeing. Specifically waiting for Emily to come out of her coma.

Thus began what Allison later thought of as 'the wake'.

She barely left Emily's side, but Andrew, after half a day, shook his head.

“Al, I can’t... I can’t just _sit_ here.”

She looked at him, uncomprehending.

“What do you mean?”

“Just... _sitting_. Waiting. I need to...” he faltered, and after a moment she nodded. He was a people person, far more so than her. She could happily focus on a project, shutting out the world completely, but he needed _interaction_. 

“It’s OK. Just don’t go far.”

She, too, found the sight of their pale and silent daughter almost more than she could bear. But she couldn't leave. It was like someone had pressed pause, and she was unable to actually process anything. She was grateful that Andrew was able to reach out though - it was probably a far healthier response than withdrawing... 

Over the next few days he got to know the whole ward. She could hear him play little tunes, making the other children sing (if they could) or join in any way possible, using his talents for engaging people wherever he went - always checking back every hour, but unable to cope with her silent vigil. The nurses complimented her on her husband (“Such a natural with the young ones! He’s a teacher you say? Ah, the world could do with more like him. He helps take everyone’s mind off the pain and the difficulties.”) - yet were unwilling to answer when she asked about Emily; and she read far too much in their silence. 

Sometimes doctors came to assess their girl, and once - on the third day - they took her away for some sort of scan. They said they would explain later, once they had the results. And all the while Emily was a pale, silent shadow in a bed, hooked up with tubes and wires to several machines that hummed constantly, her face and body covered in dark bruises that only seemed to go darker. Her curls lay flat and lifeless against the starched white pillow of the far-too-large hospital bed and Allison felt so helpless she could have screamed.

***

After four days, a consultant came to see them. According to her badge her name was Sameera Khan and she held out her hand to Allison, saying: "Are you mum?" when something finally snapped. Or maybe she _had_ been in shock and this was when she came back to herself. Either way, it was Dr Khan who bore the brunt of it.

"I'm Doctor Starbeck. I have a PhD in astrophysics and I _swear_ , if you talk down to me now, I will _personally_ strap you to the nose of the next NASA rocket, understood?"

The consultant nodded slowly. "I understand. However, you might want to take a seat."

***

When the Dr Khan left, Andrew turned to her, lost.

"Al..."

Phrases like 'cerebral haemorrhage' and 'intraparenchymal bleeds' and 'mortality rates of up to 50%' seemed to go in circles in Allison’s head, along with the prognosis in case she survived - and woke up. So much damage, their sparkling little girl might be nothing more than a vegetable...

"No," she said, the uncertainty of days abruptly crystallising into a perfectly clear course of action. "No, not our Emily. I once dated the cleverest boy in the world, and I will _not_ let this happen to her."

Andrew was now looking at her with that same semi-worried look he'd worn initially, back when she'd been in shock.

"Al, what are you talking about? We have to face-"

"No. No we don't."

She walked over to her bag, pulled out her phone, found the number. ( _'If you ever need me, just call...'_ )

As Andrew watched with increasing bewilderment and concern, she waited as the phone rang and rang, before eventually going to voice mail (impersonal standard message read by an impersonal female voice - didn’t matter, it was obviously just a screening wall).

"Alex-" she began, faltering. It had been... fifteen years since she'd seen him? Where had the time gone? "Seeker- whatever you call yourself, _please_ , I need you. It's my Emily, she-"

Tears suddenly welled up behind her eyes, as if admitting to what had happened, out loud, somehow made it more real.

"Just please come, _fix_ her. I don't care what you do, rewrite time, turn the world upside down, just... _Come."_

She put down the phone, turning to her husband.

"I’m sorry Andrew, I lied to you. Alex is an alien. And he can do... almost anything. Anything at all. Which is one of the reasons I broke up with him, but- He will get that message. And he will trace the call, find Emily's medical records, work out a way to heal her and then come straight here. And he _will_ make her better."

Andrew was now looking at her like she was going stark-raving mad (which wasn’t surprising really, everything considered), but she just held his eyes, waiting.

After about ten seconds there was a knock at the door.

Sending Andrew a ‘What did I say?’ look, she went to open it. And froze when she saw who was on the other side.

She’d expected the ginger one - cool detachment, superior knowledge and deliberate distance; his no-nonsense attitude easy to deal with under the current circumstances. 

Instead she was faced with _her_ Alex.


	36. Chapter 36

He looked exactly the same in almost every detail. She’d not seen him in fifteen years, yet it was as if he’d stepped straight out of her memories.

The T-shirt, jeans and trainers were identical, although the duffle coat she’d given him (its connotations probably too painful now) had been swapped for a faded green tweed jacket that was practically threadbare with age (a hand-me-down from one of his titled family, maybe an ancient hunting jacket he’d taken to?) - but jacket apart he was still _just Alex_ , so familiar it felt like falling back through time and being eighteen years old again, properly in love for the first time and so sure love would conquer everything. 

(This must have been how the older him had felt when he saw her... No wonder he’d been so shocked. Oh god, how was she supposed to even _speak_ to him?)

He looked _so young_... 

She’d known of course - ageing at different rates being one of the many, many issues she’d tried to get her head around... But it wasn’t fair that he looked 25-30 (at the most) and she looked... Well, younger than 37, but no one was going to knock ten years off her age.

(She was rambling, her mind stuck in a moment. And he still tilted his head _just like so_ when he was puzzled... Why _was_ he looking at her like that? Had she changed that much?)

Then he seemed to catch himself. 

“You called. I came.”

In an instant reality reasserted itself.

“Can you help her?”

He smiled then, that small superior smile that she had often resented, but that now meant hope turning to fact.

“I would move galaxies if you so wished, you know that. I will make her good as new, promise.”

Stepping back she let him into the room, realising that Andrew was now staring at them as if he suspected that he himself was going mad.

“Um, I don’t think you’ve ever met? Alex - my husband, Andrew Starbeck. Andrew, this is Alexander Saxon.”

Shaking Alex’s hand as if in a daze, Andrew eventually found his voice.

“But - how the hell did you get here?”

“I’m a time traveller. Time Lord specifically. I received Allie’s message, traced the call back, found a solution and then timed my arrival to be a minute from when Allie called. No need to let you wait any longer than necessary.”

It was _exactly_ what she had predicted, and she could see Andrew take this on board, as he looked from Alex and back to her. He was probably busy trying to remember what she’d said back that awful morning after their initial one-night-stand, dragging up everything she’d said about Alex being lying, cheating and manipulative... Alex didn’t look thrilled either, shooting Andrew a dark look.

“Right, show me the patient - I’m not enjoying feeling like Snape.”

(How had she forgotten his thing about stories? And Snape... It took a moment, then it clicked. Snape, unsuccessful in trying to win Lily’s love as she married James instead, yet going out of his way, continually, to protect her child, because of his unceasing love... It was not a comfortable allusion.)

Standing by the foot end of Emily’s bed, he turned.

“Can I have a closer look? 21st Century diagnostic tools and scanners are not as accurate as they could be.”

“Of course,” she replied, and could sense Andrew’s surprise when Alex walked up to the head of the bed, settling down beside their girl and gently laying his fingertips on her temples as he closed his eyes.

“He’s highly telepathic,” she whispered, and she could now sense Andrew’s unspoken discomfort loud and clear. “And don’t be like that. I trust him.”

Andrew opened his mouth, but she silenced him with a look. After a long moment Alex let his hands fall.

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad. But not unfixable.”

Reaching into an inside pocket he brought out a metal box about the size of a paperback book, a couple of inches deep. On the side it had several rows of buttons.

“I need you to place your hands here,” he said, holding the box out towards them and motioning the flat top, “a scan of the parental DNA is necessary for optimum results.”

Andrew followed Allison’s lead, but he still looked so sceptical she almost kicked him. 

Ignoring both of them Alex busied himself with (she presumed) programming the box, his fingers practically dancing over the tiny buttons.

Then he opened the container, and a golden cloud seemed to lift and then cover Emily, as Alex quietly and efficiently walked around the bed, unhooking all the tubes attaching her to the machines that were keeping her alive...

 _‘I trust you, I trust you, I trust you...’_ she repeated in her mind, watching the golden cloud - or maybe it was more like a swarm? It seemed to have individual motes... 

And then every thought vanished from her head as Emily sat up, rubbing her eyes, the cloud disappearing back into the box as Alex stepped away from the bed.

“Mummy? Why am I in bed?”

Then she looked around, studying the hospital room with undiluted astonishment, before looking at her parents with worry.

“What happened?”

Rushing to her side, they both tried to explain that she had been in an accident, and Allison could have cried with joy - every bruise, every injury, gone as if never there.

Soon however, Emily noticed the fourth person in the room.

“Who are _you_?” she asked bluntly, and they all turned to Alex who had quietly moved into corner.

For a second he seemed uncertain, but then he smiled.

“I’m your fairy godfather. You can call me Mr O’Malley.”

“Huh?” Emily replied, looking at him with a frown. “What’s a fairy godfather?”

”Like a fairy godmother, just a boy instead,” Alex replied, walking up to the bed. 

Emily slowly shook her head.

“But you don’t have any wings.”

“Not all fairies have wings,” he countered, sitting down next to her and studying her with great seriousness, as Allison moved away, cautiously curious, pulling Andrew with her. “Have you seen Cinderella? _Her_ fairy godmother doesn’t have wings either.”

It took a moment before Emily caught onto the significance of the whole thing. She looked Alex up and down, tender hope warring with uncertainness. 

“Are you... _proper magic_?” she eventually asked, voice breathless with excitement, and he nodded solemnly.

“Absolutely. You were very poorly, so your mother made a wish and I came and made you better.”

“But Mummy doesn’t believe in magic.”

He chuckled.

“You tell your mother from me that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.”

This clearly made no sense to Emily, yet she was obviously intrigued by this stranger.

“But are you magic. Proper, real magic. Do you live in fairy land? Do you use fairy dust?”

“Yes, and yes, little Miss Starbeck. Which is a beautiful name by the way. Do you know what a beck is? It’s another word for a stream. So you are like a very small river of stars. All bright, like your hair...”

She giggled.

“Mummy calls me Dandelion Head because my hair goes _poof!_ ”

She illustrated with her hands, miming her hair exploding.

“But what’s fairy land like? Is it like in Fantasia with all the fairies that make things frosty and the dancing mushrooms?”

He was now studying her with that selfsame interest and delight he always exhibited when he’d found something _new_ , a focus that was unwavering in intensity, although here it was tempered with a gentleness that she vaguely recalled him exhibiting around children. And when he spoke, his voice sounded as if reciting something from a story book:

“My world is... not really like Disney. The grass is read and stretches all the way out to the horizon, unbroken. There are two suns shining in the sky, which is the colour of burnt orange, and the leaves on the trees are silver. And when the singing fish are migrating, it sounds as if the whole world is made of music.”

Emily was looking at him as if all her birthdays had come at once, her eyes shining. Then she turned to Allison with as much rightful indignation and triumph as could be contained within her four year old body.

“You see Mummy? Magic _is_ real!”

Alex laughed softly, leaning in conspiratorially.

“Oh your mother knows - she’s been to my world once.”

Emily’s jaw dropped, and Allison could feel questions arise in Andrew also.

“Mummy! Why didn’t you tell me?”

Before Allison could answer however, Emily turned back to Alex, eyes wide as something had clearly struck her.

“Do _you_ know if mushrooms smell like fairies’ bottoms?”

Alex didn’t falter for a moment. Indeed, he seemed beyond charmed, the previous tension having vanished entirely.

“Well, that depends if a fairy has been sitting on the mushroom or not.”

Her mouth forming a perfect ‘o’, Emily then smiled widely.

“Are rainbows heavy or light? 'Cause I've been arguing with my friends.”

“They weight nothing at all - they're made of light and colours.”

“Why aren’t there any unicorns in the zoo?”

“The last wizard took them all away to fairy land to keep them safe. I was only a little boy then, but I got to help.”

“Really?” The word was barely above a breath, and Allison was now beginning to worry that it’d all be too much for Emily. How were they ever going to keep this up? Then Emily reached out, a chubby hand imploringly attaching itself to Alex’s sleeve.

“If you’re my fairy godfather, will you bring me fairy dust for my birthday present?”

A beat, then he slowly shook his head.

“I’m sorry, only fairies are allowed fairy dust. It could be dangerous around ordinary people.”

Seeing how her face fell, he put a finger under her chin.

“However, I brought some tonight to make you better. Would you like to see?”

And in front of Emily’s ever-widening eyes he brought out the box, opening it with a flourish - the golden cloud practically dancing out into the room, before weaving in and out in complex and beautiful patterns, and Allison could tell that even Andrew was enchanted. Her golden boy... Emily was right - it was like touching magic.

After a few minutes however, he herded his ‘fairy dust’ back in its box, and studied Emily with a touch of concern.

“I think you need a little rest Miss Starback. Magic needs time to stabilise, I’m sure you know that.”

“But I’m not the tiniest littlest bit tired!” she protested, as he reached out, his hands gently cradling her face.

“Not a problem, little princess.”

Within a second she was out, and he laid her back down on the bed, carefully covering her with the duvet.

“What did you do?” Andrew asked, by now in equal measures stunned and unsettled.

“Just put her to sleep for an hour or so, which should help all the restored parts of her mind settle. If you mean how did I fix her, then it wasn’t fairy dust, it was Chula technology - nano bots, programmed to rebuild living tissue. Wonderfully clever thing.”

He got up, patting his coat to make sure the box was still there, then attempted a smile.

“This was... Not what I expected. Your daughter is beyond delightful as I’m sure you know. But I really can’t stay, so I guess this is goodbye.”

Andrew frowned, like he wasn’t hearing correctly.

“You mean you’re leaving.”

“Yes? I didn’t think you’d have a problem with that...”

But Andrew shook his head, and Allison could feel something brewing. She just couldn’t work out what.

“That magic box of yours - nano bots or whatever it is - does it work on anyone?”

Alex nodded slowly.

“If it’s programmed right, yes.”

Allison had rarely seen Andrew properly angry, but she recognised the signs with alarm. Stepping up to Alex so they were face to face, he spoke slowly and deliberately:

“So let me get this straight. You are just _going to leave._ And you are expecting me to take my perfectly healed daughter and _quite simply walk out of here_.”

“I... I’m afraid I don’t follow you,” Alex replied, and Andrew looked ready to punch him.

“There is a little boy down the corridor who was born with half his face missing and most of his insides on the outside. He’s three months old and he will probably not live to see his first birthday. There’s a ten year old girl who’s been battling a very rare cancer for years, and is losing the fight. There is a lad of seven two doors down who has a degenerative disease there is no cure for, and he is _in constant pain_. To mention but a few! _You_ have a cure for all this - and you are going to leave them here to rot!”

Alex had gone completely still, and when he replied his voice was very, very quiet. 

“I am not a hero or a god. The world and its problems are not my responsibility.”

Allison wanted to intervene somehow, wanted to warn Andrew that _quiet_ meant _dangerous_ when it came to Alex, although Andrew certainly had a point... She’d been too close, back then, to really take it all on board except for how it affected her and her choice. Andrew was far more blunt:

“You know what? I don’t give a shit about what you are. But you have a chance to end suffering right here and now. To help other children _every bit as deserving as mine_. Don’t you fucking _dare_ walk out!”

And then - Alex smiled. The bright happy smile Allison thought she’d never see again. Ignoring Andrew entirely, he turned and caught her eyes.

“Loved by a good man. You see? Babushka was right.”

Andrew was staring from one to the other, his anger stumbling.

“What?”

Alex patted him on the arm.

“What that means, Mr Starbeck, is that I am all yours. Lead on, I’ll be your miracle maker for the day.” 

A beat, then he tilted his head, studying the now speechless Andrew.

“You see, I thought she was making do. Stupid of me probably, but I’m hopelessly arrogant. Allie - I should have trusted you, I’m sorry.”

“What...” Andrew said, and Alex’s smile faded, until it was the selfsame sad little smile his older self would wear as armour, and Allison could feel her heart contracting.

“A long time ago Allison and I had our fortunes told. It was the summer we ran away with the circus - did she ever tell you about that? Anyway, Babushka seems to have been spot on, and I knew then, that- that I would probably lose her. I may be many things, but ‘a good man’ is never going to be an apt description. I hope you keep giving her everything I never could.”

And with that he pulled the box out of his pocket and strode out of the room, leaving Andrew to stand blinking in confusion.

Allison smiled, swiftly kissing him on the cheek.

“Told you he was like Ferris Bueller. Now go change people’s lives.”

( _Her_ Alex... He would die saving the world, yet still resisting the labels for hero and villain. She dearly hoped he would one day find someone who would hold onto him the way she hadn’t been able to.)

Feeling unexpectantly exhausted, she sat down by Emily’s bedside, gently stroking her daughter’s unruly curls, watching as her chest slowly rose and fell, black eyelashes touching rosy cheeks without a hint of blemish - the nightmare of the past few days receding, yet she knew it would never be forgotten. She idly wondered what her life would have been like if she had never met Alex’s future self, if she’d had a choice, if she’d chosen differently... There would never have been a curious little girl whose existence turned around fairies and unicorns and magic. And she would not have been wooed with music and fallen in love with possibility and hope, would be living without Adelaide as friend and focal point... The mere thought of everything she could have lost without knowing it made her hand shake. She’d been so _angry_ , she remembered, so upset at having had her choice taken away. With hindsight, she had known nothing at all about life; had no concept of what her choices had _been_. 

And Alex’s future self had made sure she went down the right path - gently guiding her, showing her just enough to help her find her way. Had given her this life. 

She had no idea how to thank him.

***

When Andrew and Alex returned, Andrew still bore the same expression - stunned, yet cautious.

“What exactly did you _do_ to all the staff and... everything?”

Alex smiled secretively.

“Like I said, can’t have this turn into a news story. So I... took care of it. Torchwood will sort the rest.”

Andrew didn’t look convinced, but Alex changed his focus by adding: “I really _do_ need to be going, although I suppose I should really offer my congratulations first.”

Andrew looked at Allison, who looked at Alex.

“What do you mean? Like, belated wedding congratulations?”

Studying her like she was some sort of imbecile, he shook his head.

“How can you not _know_?”

Then a thought appeared to occur to him. 

“Of course - you’re only human.”

Eyes guarded, yet mischievous, he shot Andrew a look.

“Apologies Mr Starbeck, but I’m going to have to get up close and personal with your wife for a moment.”

In two steps he was beside her, before falling to his knees; resting his head against her belly, right hand spread out across her abdomen, frowning in concentration as Allison froze in surprise.

“Never done this before, need to concentrate. Hang on... ”

Slowly his eyes fell shut, the softest of smiles touching the corners of his mouth.

“It’s a boy!”

Allison could only stare at him open-mouthed, before lifting her head and catching Andrew’s eyes. He - if possible - looked even more shocked than she felt.

Letting go of her, Alex got back on his feet, looking from one to the other.

“So, congratulations on the next little Starbeck.”

Allison involuntarily brought her hands up to her stomach. She’d not been keeping track, but she couldn’t be more than a couple of days past when her period was due - _and he could tell?_

(Another baby. _Another baby_. How the hell would they fit another baby into their lives? Parts of her were panicking - morning sickness and swollen ankles and sleepless nights and 2 am feeds - although if today had taught her anything, it was that life was immensely precious. They’d have to make it work, somehow.)

“But how...” Andrew said, too stunned to take it in, and Allison’s mind immediately jumped on the question in a far too literal manner, realising that it must have been that night after the concert. The first proper concert of all his works; and he’d been so darn handsome and elated from the evening (white tie - it was where she’d gotten the idea for him being a Silver Fox), they’d never even considered... _timing_. A blush crept up her cheeks, which only intensified when she realised just how delicate and awkward the whole situation was with Alex right there...

Alex shrugged, but Allison - knowing him far too well, and still able to read him - knew that it was just a front. Could see the tenseness in his shoulders and the way his smile was a tiny bit too forced. She’d been too wrapped up in her own emotions to really think about what this must cost him - but to see her like this, literally carrying someone else’s child, having all the things he never could... It had to cut him too deep for words.

“Oh I knew the second I saw her. It’s... fairly obvious. The hormones and... everything.”

Allison could tell Andrew was trying to come to terms with all her own stumbling blocks - the sheer _otherness_ that she had never quite managed to grapple with successfully. Slowly, however, he took his eyes off Alex and turned to her, and she could read every emotion on his face. Not just the revelation about the baby, but above that a single realisation: ‘You chose _me._ ’ He had never - because she’d never talked about it - had any kind of real understanding of what she’d left behind. Now he did, and she walked over to him, taking his hand.

“Andrew - could I have just a moment alone with Alex? Please?”

He nodded, and she knew that they’d have many, many long talks later about all the things she’d failed to mention.

“Of course Al. I’ll go make some tea.”

A sort of spluttering noise interrupted them.

“Al? He calls you _‘Al’?_ And you haven’t killed him?”

Allison bit her lip. 

“It’s... a thing. When we met. I-”

“Nevermind. Sorry. I should know you... Nevermind.”

A moment later they stood facing each other, alone for the first time since... Well, that was complicated.

“It’s strange,” she eventually said. “You look younger than me.”

For a second he seemed taken aback.

“I’m fifty-three,” he replied cautiously. “I got your call... a long, long time ago. Took me a while before I was ready to see you. Heck, just look at the jacket - I bought it the day I received your letter, way back, because I just needed some kind of... marker, some kind of break with the past. Chose it mostly because it looked hard wearing, although thirty years of use have rather taken its toll I suppose.”

Thirty years - it had been twice as long for him as for her. The jacket like a physical sign of the time that had gone... And yet - despite the fact that he was older than Andrew - he didn’t just _look_ young, he... _seemed_ young. (Ageing at different rates. It wasn’t just physical.) She wasn’t sure how to reply to what he’d said, and he obviously wasn’t expecting an answer as he continued almost immediately:

“Allie, just one question. Are you are happy? Is this what you wanted?”

She nodded, eyes welling up again.

“Yes. Yes, I am happy. In ways I can't even explain. If-” 

She stopped, trying to get her thoughts under control. “Even if it was possible, I wouldn't change a thing. I'm sorry if that sounds..."

Her voice trailed off, because there was no nice way of saying it, but he merely shrugged lightly, a strangely bitter smile on his face that his words went on to explain.

“Of course I could change it - I just wanted to make sure. Hoped you didn’t have regrets...” He looked away. “Sorry, none of my business I know, I shouldn’t-”

But she shook her head, trying to make sure she was understanding him properly. It couldn’t be...

“But - it’s been thirty years for you. Surely you couldn’t rewrite your own life?”

He looked surprised.

“Course I could. Well, maybe not _rewrite_ , but I could pluck us out of our timelines if I wanted to. It’d be... complex, but nothing a small paradox machine couldn’t cope with.”

Abruptly lowering his eyes, he looked away from her shocked face.

“Sorry again. That’s the kind of thing I shouldn’t say, I know. The kind of thing that made you leave in the first place. I am just fantastically talented at shooting myself in the foot.”

But she wasn’t listening, her mind containing only one thought: He’d lied. The older him, meeting the younger her... He’d lied. Had made her think they couldn’t be. Had forced her to embrace life, giving her this...

Abruptly she stepped forward, hugging him tightly and clinging like she would never let go.

“Thank you,” she said, voice hardly more than a whisper, trying not to let the tears overcome her. She could sense his surprise, and pulled away a little, looking into his eyes - his beautiful brown eyes... One day they would be blue and guarded, but they would still be _his_.

“Thank you for loving me enough to let go. For loving me enough to give me all this.”

He was studying her with surprise writ all over his face, clearly wondering what had brought this on. And she couldn’t tell him, because it was a message for the future... A message he wouldn’t understand for years and years. But one day - one day he’d meet her again, young and confused and lost, and he would selflessly step back and giver her a life she couldn’t have begun to imagine then... She wiped away a tear, shaking her head.

“Sorry, the last few days- I’m all over the place, emotionally. It’s just- I’d never know what I’d be missing, right? If you did it, I’d never know...”

It was now his turn to look shocked, with added incredulity on top and a dash of offence.

“Allison. What kind of person would I be to take all this away from you? All I ever wanted was to make you happy. And Andrew can obviously give you all the things I can’t... I know I’m not a-”

She cut him off by literally laying a finger across his lips. There were a few things she needed him to understand. Important things. He had helped her, the least she could do was to help him in return. His path was so much longer, but if nothing else she could set the record straight.

“Alex, listen. I know you won’t believe me, but you _are_ a good man. And I hope that one day you’ll come to accept that. Maybe find someone who can convince you... But until then please take my word. Besides, I don’t love Andrew because of his sometimes rigid morals - as a matter of fact that’s something we usually argue about, and they nearly broke us up before we’d even got together. _Please_ don’t think that somehow you didn’t measure up, or put yourself in the Snape box, because that’s just stupid and illogical. And...” she took his hands, looked into his eyes, _needing_ him to understand. “If you really want to know, then Andrew and I... It was the music.”

It took a couple of seconds, but then she saw the jigsaw puzzles in his mind rearrange themselves into the correct pattern. (He was so _impossibly clever_ \- times like these it was a blessing.)

“Reach for the Stars?” he asked, with new-found comprehension and acceptance, and she nodded.

“Reach for the Stars.”

***

_Early Spring 2030, Manchester_

She was hopelessly jet lagged, but there was nothing to be done about that. Dragging her luggage through the door she noticed the mountains of post on the table and could feel her heart sink. Who’d have thought half a year in America could pile up to such an extent? She had meant to come back for Christmas, but one of her fellow students had invited her to stay ‘for the Holidays’ and it had been great to experience an American Christmas. Not to mention that it had stopped there from being any reminders of Alex...

Toby and Troy had looked after the flat for her, and assured her that they had gotten rid of all the junk mail. Even so... After making a cup of tea (they had stocked up her fridge, she’d have to kiss them both!) she settled down to sort through everything.

A large A4 envelope caught her eyes, and she pulled it out from beneath a pile, causing the whole thing to topple to the floor. But she hardly noticed, as she realised the envelope had no address written on it, instead bearing only the word ‘Al’.

Puzzled she tore it open. It contained what appeared to be sheets of music, with a hand-written letter on top.

> _Al_
> 
> _So, I wrote this, and I want to dedicate it to you. Not just for pestering me about trying to follow my dreams, but also for helping me to notice how much bigger the world is. If you’re not happy to have your name associated with it, don’t worry - I know we didn’t part on the best of terms. I just wanted you to have this. I hope you understand what I was trying to do._
> 
> _Yours,  
>  Andrew_

Below he had scribbled a web address, followed by ‘Password: You’re clever, work it out’.

Turning her eyes from the letter to the music, she read the title:

_‘(For Allison, who taught me to) **Reach for the Stars**.  
A musical piece for orchestra, with flute and piano’_

She glanced at the sheet music, but then decided to listen instead. Plugging her phone into the sound system, it took her a moment to work out the password for the website, but then she laughed and typed it in.

(What followed was not at all what she had expected. Not least, because it would change her life.)  
  
The music began, and initially she was puzzled. It was clearly a celestial theme, wide and expansive, but - strangely at odds with it - was the piano. As though it were playing an entirely different piece of music, the rhythm jarring - small and low-key, uninterested in the grand scope of the orchestra. Then the flute joined, but rather than follow the piano it expanded upon the main theme, bright, clear and jubilant, and the piano in turn began to falter, stuttering in its tune. She listened, breath caught, as the two instruments seemed to argue, sometimes intersecting, sometimes clashing, until things came to a head and they both stopped. The orchestra continued, unaffected, and after a moment the flute came back, more quiet, but still picking up on the wider theme. Another moment, and then... the piano joined. At first unsure, picking up a note here and a note there, but slowly it built, interweaving its original tune with the orchestra and supporting the flute, the flute soaring higher than before - the piece ending with the two instruments triumphantly ascending, building and re-imagining the celestial theme all over.

It wasn’t until the piece ended that she realised she was crying. How had he done that? How had he wrapped up all his feelings, everything they were and could be, and turned it into music? 

Looking at the envelope, she was suddenly gripped with fear. How long had it been there? How long had he waited? Since before Christmas maybe? Had he thought Toby and Troy had sent it to her? Did he think she wasn’t interested?

Glancing at the clock - it was now midmorning - she decided she didn’t have a moment to waste. It was possibly due to the jet lag and the lack of sleep, but it was imperative that she see him as soon as she could, making sure she grasped this opportunity. She had lost one love through lack of momentum, she wouldn’t lose another. Because he loved her, wanted her to soar and reach for the stars - the stars that she had apparently help him see for the first time... of that the music had left her absolutely sure. And he’d be there, the stabilising piano supporting her high flying ideas...

She reached his school in less than half an hour, and to her relief the lady at reception remembered her from the previous spring when she’d done her talk, even going to the trouble of telling her where she could find Andrew - he’d be finishing a lesson any minute and then there’d be a ten minute break...

She barely heard the last part, already setting off along a corridor, teenagers moving along slowly, watching her with puzzled eyes.

She got to the classroom in question just as he emerged out of the door, staring at her with pure astonishment. He’d not changed at all - same beard and colourful shirt, leather satchel slung over his shoulder.

“Al? What are you doing here?”

Instead of answering, she put her arms around him and just kissed him. For a moment he appeared frozen, but then he folded his arms around her in response, deepening the kiss as if this was all they’d ever done. She could faintly hear wolf whistles and cat calling from the kids, but she didn’t care.

When she eventually pulled away, his face was delighted but deeply surprised, and all around there were young voices trying to get catch their attention and talking to each other.

“Sir! Sir! Is that your girlfriend?”

“Sir! Sir! Do you know she’s really scary?”

“Scary? Really? She don’t look scary.”

“She’s the one who came to do that talk last year about science and stuff? And Kyle was being a moron like he always is and she proper told him off - like, he was all ‘I’m sorry Miss, I won’t talk like that again, Miss’. Totally terrified.”

“I remember that! Proper good that was, Kyle’s such a jerk. And she’s, like, all inspirational and stuff and dead clever. I’m going to do marine biology because of her.”

But Andrew ignored them all, watching only her.

“Al...” he said, almost helplessly, and she smiled, feeling like she was grasping onto life for the first time in what seemed like years.

“The answer is yes.”

“To... the dedication?”

“To everything. You and me...” She almost laughed with the sheer joy of the moment. “I’m going to send people to Mars, and you are going to write the music. And _we_? Are going to be happy.”

***

She saw the Seeker once more, years later, whilst on holiday in Venice for their 25th wedding anniversary. It was Andrew who pointed him out, saying ‘Look at that guy - his coat’s like a post box!’

She turned, and instantly spotted the coat wearer in the distance. It was a distinctively featured man with vividly orange hair, standing in a gondola and holding out his hand to a pretty, brown haired woman who looked vaguely familiar. She was laughing, and Allison - taking in the way the woman snuggled up to him once they were seated - figured she had to be something far more intimate than ‘just a friend’. 

She smiled, and held on more tightly to Andrew’s arm. A last worry had finally been laid to rest. 

_‘Maybe we were never meant to be, my beautiful, golden boy - time and impossibility tearing us apart. But I am glad we have both found happiness even so.’_

 


	37. Epilogue

_Winter 2066_

There was a plum tree in Allison’s garden. Snowflakes were gently settling on its branches, brightly white against the near-blackness of the bare branches, promising that soon the tree would be as snow-capped as the ground below. Yes, it was a perfectly ordinary tree, except it hadn’t been there two minutes previously. 

She almost turned to call out, but two years had been long enough to make her catch herself in time. There would be no answer.

For long moments nothing happened. Snowflakes continued to fall, and the tree stood in the middle of her garden, immovable, as if it had grown roots. Maybe it had. Maybe she had zoned out for so long that a whole tree had grown... But the steely grey sky didn’t look as if it was giving birth to miracles today, and the whirling whiteness was indifferent to the world around it.

(She was used to that. Her world had ended twice within the past seven years, and yet life continued unaffected all around her. Season followed season, sun and rain and snow meaning nothing more than blissfully neutral topics for conversation. She could talk about the weather forever... Other things were impossible to explain or acknowledge.)

Her attention was caught by movement. As if to prove that the day was going out of its way to confound her, a square rectangle of golden light appeared in the dark trunk (like a door opening), and out of it stepped a dark-haired man, dressed in dark colours. He looked up at the falling snow and then turned to take in the garden and the tree he had emerged from, the confusion evident. 

Eventually he set eyes on the house. Hesitating for a moment, he then appeared to shrug, before closing the tree-door and walking up the garden path towards Allison’s back door. 

Somewhere in the back of her mind it occurred to her that maybe she ought to be afraid. But who-ever-it-was looked as lost as she... And Emily had believed so fiercely in tree elves when she was little.

Shortly afterwards there was a knock at the back door, and (without thinking) she went to open it. 

The man looked to be about her own age, late fifties or thereabouts, and stray snowflakes were settling in his well cut, if somewhat unkempt, black hair. The hair at his temples were shot through with white, and his clothes, although obviously good quality, were unremarkable - dark and very ordinary. 

The most startling feature overall were his eyes - vivid green, they were studying her with slowly dawning recognition.

“Allison?” the stranger asked softly, tilting his head _just so_ , and Allison could feel her mind very, very slowly ticking over.

“Alex?” she asked eventually, and he blinked. 

“No one’s called me that in... centuries. But yes, that used to be my name.”

A pause, as clearly neither knew what to say, then he spoke again.

“Can I come in?” 

There didn’t seem to be any particular emotion behind the words, nor did his eyes look at her with that shaded pain she now recalled from previous meetings - despite the unusual colour, his eyes seemed oddly impassive. 

Part of her wanted to just slam the door in his face, but another part decided that it would rather have answers. So she shrugged and said ‘OK’.

Cautiously he entered, looking around her kitchen with quiet curiosity - the photos and Emily’s paintings on the walls, the drawings attached to the fridge - and took a seat at the table when she motioned for him to do so.

She found she couldn’t sit, and instead leaned against a cabinet, just watching him. Eventually she spoke, unable to contain herself. She had been raging against fate for a long time - having an actual person to hold responsible was a luxury she didn’t think she’d ever have.

“Did you know? About Adelaide? About Mars? How it would end?”

The words nearly caught in her throat, the pain and the anger and the staggering loss still somehow fresh even though it had been more than six years.

His expression didn’t change. He might have been discussing the weather for all the emotion he displayed.

“That they all died? Of course. Why do you think she’s famous?”

“She's famous because she _died_?”

“She’s famous because they were the _first_. Because they inspired the whole world.”

“But they didn’t need to _die_! How could you _know_ and never say? How could you _know_ and let me pour my whole life into-” She stopped, too angry and too upset to continue. 

And he was just sitting there. A stranger in her world, dark-clad and sombre, as if he’d never been her golden boy.

“You made history. You helped change the world. Adelaide’s endeavour lives _forever_ , the cornerstone of all human exploration.”

She shook her head, wanting to shake him. Nice platitudes were all she'd had ever since that fateful November day. She needed _more_.

“It was my life’s work and _she was my best friend_. And she died...”

A slow nod. He was too quiet, too old (and considering how old she felt that was almost a joke) - not giving her anywhere to focus her anger. And she needed anger.

“That makes you very fortunate. And I know what you’re thinking, but I can’t change it. Never could, never will. It’s a fixed point in history. Adelaide’s fate as unchanging as the atoms in a diamond - and as bright.”

A small bitter smile, the first hint of real emotion she had seen.

“I’d swap, if I could. Try working on something for the best part of a lifetime, and then see it all destroyed in a moment. And no one, ever, any the wiser.”

At her inquiring look, he explained a little more.

“My Matrix. Worked on it for about fifty years, give or take. And then, when it was nearing completion, it... exploded. I’d miscalculated somewhere. Oh, and the explosion killed me, hence this face.”

She hugged herself, hoping he wasn’t expecting sympathy, because she didn’t have any left. But his words had reminded her of another question she'd never thought anyone would be able to answer.

“But what happened? On Mars, I mean. Why did they die? Was it... Was it something that could have been prevented? Was it- was it me?”

(Her secret fear. Her nightmare, that she had never dared share. Had she miscalculated somewhere? Had she forgotten something? Could she have done something else...)

He considered for a long moment.

“I don’t think so. You had hundreds, if not thousands, of people checking everything. Plus the last message was about water...” Another long pause, as he silently deliberated with himself.

“Maybe the natives - they were called Ice Warriors by the way - would know why. If it was something inherent to the planet, or a one-off threat...”

His voice trailed off, and after a moment she realised he wasn’t going to pick up the thread again. It was strange... He’d put her mind to rest, if not offered an apology - yet he seemed completely detached. His answers were sufficient, yet nothing more, seemingly given more out of politeness than anything else. Like she could have been anyone. But why come here, if not to speak with her about Mars?

Shifting uncomfortably, she cast about for another subject. The anger was gone again, buried beneath loss, and she didn’t have the energy to fuel it.

“So... what have you been doing? If your Matrix didn’t work out?”

Resting his chin on folded hands he frowned lightly, as if casting his mind back was not easy - like throwing a line far back and reeling in old, old memories. (How old _was_ he? The last time she'd seen him he'd almost been a child...)

“What have I done? Mostly trying to rediscover old Time Lord science; how to manipulate the world... Controlling gravity, playing around with the space-time continuum in up to eleven dimensions, that kinda thing. Built an empire. Oh and before that I won a war.” 

His voice was reflective, thoughtful. He might have been discussing the finer points of bread making. 

“A proper big war, for the whole of the universe. I... rather enjoyed that, although I’m glad it’s not a regular thing. It’s all in the planning, you see, accounting for unknown unknowns... Father was pleased of course, but it took the Doctor a good few decades before he’d talk to me again. Not that I was around much afterwards - I discovered a way to travel between dimensions, so I did a bit of that for a while. But there’s no place like home...”

Listening, she became increasingly uneasy. It wasn’t what he was telling her, but how he said it. A sort of quiet emptiness behind the words, as if he was reciting an old story, or discussing someone else’s life. He’d been a good liar, and one who’d learned to shield his emotions from her, but there was no shield here, no lies. Just a detachment more than bordering on the deeply unnerving. It left only one question.

“Why are you here?”

He lifted his eyes and studied her blankly. Beautiful green eyes, without the tiniest spark of... anything at all.

“My TARDIS brought me here. That’s my spaceship. I don’t know why it chose here and now and you.”

He hadn’t come. He’d been _brought_. (The tree was a spaceship? The camouflage was incredible. Although that was a topic for another time.) But she could tell that he was actively avoiding her question. She asked again, with more force.

“Why are you _here_? What happened?”

He seemed frozen, then abruptly he lowered his eyes, swallowing, and the emotionless carapace fell off him in one fell swoop.

“My wife died,” he said, voice barely above a whisper, and the raw emotion in his words might as well have been an actual wound. The recognition hit her so hard that she found herself grasping a chair and sitting down across from him. 

(He was wearing a wedding ring, a slim gold band around his finger. She hadn’t even noticed.)

“And I don’t-” he continued, “-I don’t know what to do. I’ve lost people before, I thought I was prepared. Remembered how much it hurts. But this is different. It’s like...” He reached for the words falteringly, hesitating and unsure. “Like I lost a part of myself? And now... It’s as if I have a phantom limb... I keep turning and thinking she’ll be there, keep talking and expecting her to answer, keep imagining I’m hearing her voice, it’s like-”

“-like living with a ghost,” she cut in, and the acknowledgement of shared grief made him _look_ at her properly for the first time. 

“I was going to say ‘going insane’, but living with a ghost is probably nearer the truth. I didn’t realise-” He stopped, and she swallowed, trying to pull her self together.

“Andrew died two years ago,” she said, still feeling as if the words couldn’t possibly be true. As if it was all some sort of bad dream and she’d wake up and he’d be _there_ just like he should. Like he’d always been.

“He had a heart attack. He was... seventy. Collapsed one day, out of the blue. The paramedics managed to revive him, but only for a moment. I held his hand. And then he was gone. We were going to travel, enjoy our twilight years-”

She couldn’t continue, eyes blurring, when a cool hand gently laid itself on-top of hers. He didn’t say anything, but she knew he understood. (Everyone expected her ‘get better’, but how could she? They didn't know what he'd meant.)

After a moment she managed to speak again.

“I know I was lucky. We had almost forty years together. And I have wonderful children and a granddaughter who’s a constant delight, but still-”

She bit back on the bitterness, although she felt sure he knew. Somehow she felt life had owed her _more_ , felt that surely this couldn’t be it. Grow old, fade away... Was that all there was left?

Looking at him she saw her pain mirrored, yet realised she knew nothing about him anymore. And she wanted to.

“Your wife... What was she like?”

He took a sharp breath, as if the question itself was painful, and she tried to smooth the query with an addition.

“I think I saw her once. In Venice? You were still ginger and wearing this extraordinary red coat...”

Her voice faded as he shook his head.

“Ah no. That was Roda. We were... lovers, and she was one of my closest friends. But she was never going to break my hearts, or vice versa. No, I met Saba much later - after the war, after I travelled, after... Jack dragged me along to a costume ball. I was Austin Powers in a fabulously shiny purple suit - not that anyone had ever heard of him, it was Year 5 billion and something, but that’s beside the point - and she was... a perfect match. Not just her gown, which was the identical shade of purple, but we had the exact same green eyes, and her fur was as black as my hair...”

At this point she was jolted out of the description, interrupting the flow of the reminiscences:

“Fur?”

He titled his head, puzzled.

“Sorry, didn’t I say? She was a cat.”

For the longest moment she could only stare, but he didn’t notice as he was reaching into his coat pocket, bringing out some sort of mobile device. Top of her mind was ‘I can’t believe you’d try to be funny _now of all times_ ’, except then he held the phone out to her.

“Jack took this picture of us that night.”

And there was the younger counterpart of the man at the other side of her table, grinning somewhat rakishly and clearly posing, his arm tentatively around a human-sized and human-proportioned cat in a gorgeous purple ball gown... 

“We grew old together,” he continued, voice soft. “Except she died, and I... didn’t. And she made me _promise_ not to do anything stupid, but I don’t know how to live without her. I was never lonely before, not for three hundred years of living alone on my planet, but now there’s nothing but emptiness.”

They sat in silence for a moment, and Allison tried to imagine life without anyone at all - no children or grandchildren, no siblings, no nieces and nephews, nobody to interfere and drag her back into life... She shivered and caught his eyes.

“Does it get better?”

“I don’t know. I must, right?”

A beat, then something stole into his eyes. Something new, yet something she recognised. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on... He had lifted his head, studying her with sudden intensity.

“Come with me.”

“What do you mean? Whereto?” she asked, taken aback.

“Anywhere. Everywhere.” Leaning forward, his face seemed to light up, a brightness in his eyes that seemed oddly familiar. “I always wanted to show you the stars, but never did. Come now.”

“But... I’m old,” she replied, unsure, even as she could feel a tiny little spark light up somewhere deep down, as something that had been purged so many, many years ago stirred for the first time in decades.

“How old _are_ you?” he asked, as if he’d only just noticed that she wasn't twenty. 

“Fifty-nine,” she replied, and he chuckled.

“I’m 1187, so quite frankly that doesn’t even register. Wasn’t Adelaide fifty-nine when she went to Mars?”

“Adelaide was _fit_ ,” Allison retorted. Not that she was exactly overweight, but there was a difference between being ‘not fat’ and ‘athletic as an astronaut’.

He shook his head, somewhat overbearing.

“Adelaide went to Mars in a tiny tin can held together with sticky-backed-plastic.” Allison opened her mouth, but he forestalled her. “And I am _very_ impressed with all the work that went into it. However, I have the most sophisticated spaceship in the universe. You could come even if you were in a bath chair.”

Stupid, mad hope was building, but she had lived too long to attach herself to it.

“But even so - I’ll only get older. And I won’t regenerate, I’ll just... deteriorate.”

A small smile appeared on his face - it was but a shadow of his old superiority, but it was unmistakable, and something caught in her throat at the sight.

“Oh I can fix that. You could travel with me forever, and still be back in five minutes, looking not a day older”

The tiny little spark was growing, golden light somehow coalescing into solid reality.

She could go. She could grasp _life_ and run away... It was crazy and wonderful and impossible, and all the issues and difficulties she’d had when younger seemed trivial. Besides he wasn’t young either - not unsure or worried or cautious. He knew who he was, and was comfortable in his own skin... And he was hurting, just like she. 

With astonishment she realised that something she had thought long, long dead was turning out to have merely laid dormant, and she felt like she hadn’t in years. Like she had a future.

“Yes,” she said - voice firm, heart beating, almost taking herself by surprise. “Yes, I’ll come with you.”

How could his face have changed completely, yet still light up in exactly the same way?

It took her but moments to turn the heating down and scribble a note (just in case). Then she grabbed a coat and her handbag (she loved her handbag, it had been a birthday present from Andrew when she’d turned fifty), put on some sensible shoes and nodded.

It had gone dark, but the sky was still a flurry of falling snow as they walked down her garden path. He had been silent since her acceptance, merely watching her with eyes so overwhelmed she couldn’t put it into words. But he stopped when they got to the strange plum tree that wasn’t a tree and turned to her, reaching up and gently cradling her cheek, and the touch made her shiver as forty year old memories came back to her and she remembered when she had seen the look before...

( _'I want to wreathe your head in stars and make the sun dance in your honour. I want to lay galaxies at your feet and stop time so we can never be parted. I want...'_ )

Snowflakes were settling in his hair and on his shoulders - tiny motes swirling in the dark all around them, like dancing specks of light in the silvery moonshine.

“My beautiful Allie - you told me once, so many many years ago now, on a day very much like today, that the way love works is that if one of us falls, the other will catch them. I think that was half-right. I think that how it works is that maybe - maybe we catch each other?”

She nodded, too full of emotions to speak (they had lost love, they had found love - the ache of loss cut too deep to explain, yet the joy of rediscovery was so unprecedented that she had no idea what she was doing). 

It was snowing, and she had found her golden boy once again. 

Then he pushed the door open, and she knew that despite everything, she truly believed in magic.

Stepping through the door frame, she was faced with a circular room, the centre of which was a golden glass column. Around it was a gleaming white hexagonal console with myriad buttons and levers. The walls were white too, as was the floor. Hugging the walls were curved red sofas and white cabinets, cosy and comfortable, the juxtaposition of comfort and technology reminding her of his house. Looking down, she realised that she was standing on a red mat, and obligingly wiped her feet.

Taking a few steps into the spaceship itself (the dimensions were relative? There even doors, so there had to be far more space than what she could see - he’d probably tell her in great detail later) she noticed a metal... _thing_ at the other side of the room. It looked oddly familiar and somehow it made her shiver. Despite the name being on the tip of her tongue, she couldn’t remember it, and she turned to Alex.

“Sorry, but - what’s that?”

He hesitated momentarily, the first real hesitation she’d seen.

“I told you I won a war... But it’s a long story. I’ll explain later, promise. But please don’t worry - it can’t harm you.” 

Then, to the metal-thing:

“Harvey. You’re upsetting our visitor. Scram. I’ll introduce you later.”

Obligingly the thing disappeared through a doorway, and she wondered why she recognised it, before dismissing it from her mind. Wars, strange metal creatures - none of it mattered, that much she knew. Not anymore. Life was long and the past was the past. Goodness knew she hadn’t exactly covered herself in glory at every turn.

“To begin...” he said, flicking a switch, and suddenly the central column began moving, the golden light intensifying - and it was as if the brightness shone all the way into her, lighting old dreams, old hopes... You shouldn’t feel like a teenager when you were a grandmother, yet the excitement and joy that were welling up were unmistakably the same, except deepened by a lifetime’s worth of living. She knew the price of dreams, knew what it was like to see your life’s work and love vanish from your grasp; time itself snatching it out of your hands.

And to be given another chance, to be able to go back...

The lights dimmed, and Alex almost leapt to the doors, with a flourish pulling them open, and there - surrounding them - were her stars, the stars she had longed for her whole life. Endless and shining, like diamonds across a velvet cloth, and all for her. She could feel him take her hand, and smiled through tears, as in her mind she could hear music, bright and triumphant and joyful. She was, finally, reaching for the stars.


End file.
